The Way Back
by Peladon
Summary: Legolas returns home to Mirkwood but all actions have consequences and can anything ever be as it was? Can he find his way back to himself and rediscover peace.
1. Chapter 1

**_Characters belong to whoever international law says they do. Where this is not me I am content. For pleasure not profit._**

 ** _If the shade of Tolkein still bothers with this Earth I hope he will accept my apologies for my inadequacies in writing for his wonderful creations. It is done with deep respect._**

I am not at all sure where this sits. It not a cross over as such, unless its one between a commercial fanfiction and canon but I'm not at all sure how you categorise that.

I'll set as LoR though it is actually set between the end of the Hobbit and the start of LoR and is concerned in getting Legolas back to where he should be, and to who he is.

 **The Way Back**

 _Dark thoughts upon the road_

The hooded rider on the white horse had travelled for two days down the gloaming of the woodland road without sight of any living thing; a sign perhaps of the change in the fortunes of this land. Once, and not so long ago, it would have been madness to ride this path on a loose rein and with a wandering mind, but the rider of the white horse was doing just that and remained unmolested. Had that rider paid more attention to the world around him he would have noticed changes other than that lack of molestation, he would have seen that even in the present cold, and despite the silent emptiness, signs of new life were emerging to be read by those who knew how; and this rider should have read them better than most. Yet he remained oblivious to them as to most of his surroundings instead being lost in some other world within himself.

His silent absorption in his thoughts did not impede his progress, despite the cold shadow of the woodland, for he and his horse knew this path too well to fear losing it. Nor would he be overpowered easily should danger suddenly threaten for he was well armed, with bow, knife and sword, though the need for such precautions was greatly lessened now that the Necromancer had fled his southern fortress and the spiders and other the spawn of his dark magic had withdrawn from the forest. Or so rumour would have it Thranduils power now stretched further from his halls than the day the rider had last travelled this road.

Ahead of horse and rider the tunnel of trees stretched without apparent end, the light within it but a pale imitation of itself as if it had been bled of its power by some snow dragon's evil breath. Yet that air moved constantly despite the confines of the forest, ruffling the smaller twigs and branches until they scraped together in hoarse moans of protest. The sound and the chill at last penetrated the rider's abstraction and he pulled his hood closer around his neck and urged his horse to a slightly faster pace. His grey cloak, though heavy, could not entirely evade the teasing of the wind, each flutter allowing the damp in the air to seep into his tunic and the wind tormented boughs had sent many a shower of falling ice into his lap to soak his breeches and scatter small freezing pellets down the tops of his long boots. A frown drifted across his brow, it was as if fate were conspiring to make his return as miserable as possible.

The seasons had turned seven full circles since he last entered this woodland of his birth. In truth a little more than that, for he had turned his back on home as autumn first turned its face towards winter and now the snow lay heavy in the few forest clearings he had crossed and the freezing chill in the air showed that seasons icy hand to be fully in command of the land. Yet there was no curiosity in his face, nor joy either, he seemed distanced from all around him, sunk in a world that only he could see and hear. If someone had been there to see him pass they would have assumed this inner world was one that gave him no pleasure at all, for he wore a lost and wary look.

He wasn't alone in his misery either for his horse was hanging her head, her heavy winter coat was spattered with mud and ice, and she was clearly hoping to find a stable soon. The rider shivered and patted her neck, for his steed's sake alone they must reach their goal before dark.

They drew to a halt at a small crossing of the path the rider sitting tall in the saddle and scanning the deepening shadow with watchful eyes. The spiders may have withdrawn but other dangers might still lurk here in the depth of the trees, for him perhaps more than for others. That thought sent a wave of sadness across his face and his blue eyed seemed to dim with some sudden pain. He pushed back his cloak, making sure that its folds did not obscure the handle of his short sword. This was a good place for an ambush he recalled, and he had let many an arrow fly from the tall beech over there in the days before all had come to grief.

But now all remained silent and deserted, the great beech no less than all the other trees of the wood, and even his eleven senses could detect no hint of movement or life other than that stirred by the wind, not even the usual scurrying of the forest. True little would be abroad this far into a winters day but the total silence was unnerving suggesting to him that he had been abandoned by all that he had held most dear.

But this was no place to tarry and wonder. The trunks of the greater trees were dark and damp, those branches that still had a covering of shabby green were dusted with ice, and the sky, where it could be glimpsed, was as grey as Thingol's legendary cloak. The shadows were quickly lengthening on the eastern side of the trees, betraying the aging of the day, the pale winter sun had not turned westward before the cloud had overtaken it but he knew that night could not be far away. Time was not on his side if he was to make his objective this day.

Little around him suggested that shelter would be close to hand but he knew that if he followed the off shoot of the main road that wound through the press of saplings to his right he would save many miles and give him just enough time to reach shelter before the light was too poor for his mount to step in safety.

Even so he paused a moment longer shivering with something more than cold.

Doubt seemed to assail him and the look of loss was replaced by one of fear as a string of unwelcome thoughts took hold of him. Was he so truly forsaken? Was this silence rooted in something more than winter? What evil might have befallen his land in the time of his absence, he had heard that the shadow had lifted from the wood but how much of that could he believe? Would he find the halls of his kin as deserted as these trees appeared to be? What might have happened to his father, whose power secured them, in the time since his leaving? As he stared into the dimness of the road he felt a wave of impatient anger at himself, why had he been wandering the byways when he should have been here protecting this homeland and his kin!

The sudden thought of his father tore at his heart and a look of deep distress settled on his face as a bitter regret for the time and manner of his leaving took hold of him again. Some shame too as memory of the reason for that leaving surged. But such thoughts were not new, they had ridden with him everyday of the last seven years, and though that period was usually as nothing to an elf for him it had seemed a thousand years. He had thought that his return would give him mastery of them but it seemed that was not to be the case. With a sigh at the thought he urged his weary horse onwards again. She knew the road well and her ears pricked forward as she scented the familiar air; her rider however seemed once again to be oblivious to all around him. As he rode through the places of his past there was no escaping either his thoughts, nor his doubts and fears. Had the weather been kinder or the day less advanced he might well have turned aside from the road so dark were his musings.

Too late now to undo what had been done, too late to prevent the harm that might have flowed from his actions. Too late perhaps to make amends to those who had endured the outcome of the battle when he had run from it. Too late to unsay things that should never have been said. Nothing of the past could be changed, no more than what lay before him could be. 'Home, he was going home' he reminded himself. His heart should be lighter than this and there should be a song on his lips not this sense of hollow grief. Never did he recall feeling so much trepidation, such regret, on such a journey.

Yet it mattered little, for the price, whatever that might be, would have to be paid unless he was to banish himself forever.

Once he had hunted beneath these trees with joy in his heart, not even the relentless forays against the spiders dampening his good humour and pleasure in the forest. He had asked for nothing more than to spend his days beneath elm and beech bathing in the deep green light of their shelter and the bright yellow shafts of the sun where they permitted it. The song of his people, the comradeship of his brothers and sisters of the bow, the companionship of his fellows and his father, on these had his life and pleasure been built, and he had never expected that to change. He had never doubted his future; he would find his one true one and found his family here amongst the trees and within the protection of his father's halls.

But nothing was as it had been. In those days the forest would have spoken to him, tree and rock and every running brook sharing their song to welcome him home. Every one of his folk would have felt his return and been glad of it, but now there was only silence and a void where once the presence of his people would have been. In the face of such silence he could only wonder what affection remained to him. The deepening gloom seemed to echo his memories. He knew the fault to be his alone, for he was his people's prince and they had the right to expect more constancy from him.

He had been tested and he had failed.

That had been a dark day indeed. The battle within a city ruined long ago by greed and pride, a pride no less than the one that had sent him fleeing the consequences of his actions and mistakes. To his own eyes that departure now looked a little cowardly, with more of the child about it than his years could defend. To leave at such a moment when his people were dying, and when his father, his king, had been besieged on all sides could not be excused for any hurt. For he knew even as he had raised his sword in a needless defiance that his father had been facing a terrible choice, torn between duty, the need to preserve his companies, and his desire to see the battle won. Yet with the bitter knowledge that that even if he retreated and left his dead he could only postpone this fight. The dragon was gone yet the coming war might still burn their world,

A sliver of ice fell on to his cheek and the rider closed his eyes as the memory of his father standing in the snow returned, and not softened to any great degree by time. How that memory had mocked him during the days of his wandering! It came to him in every dream and moment of quiet, his father with despair and loss so clearly written in his face as his son had spat accusation and challenge at him. The father who had loved him, fresh from a battle not of his choosing, his face still spattered with the gore of the enemy, and with the life blood of his dead staining his boots, attacked by the two whose loyalty he had most right to expect.

His father had grieved for his dead and for his son, but that son had turned away as if indifferent, had left him to bear that grief, and the grief of all his people, alone. Even when he had seen his disillusion complete he had made no apology. The eagles had come and the battle tide was turned but he had not waited for the final outcome, or to see the boats of the dead prepared. Lost in his own misery he had taken a fast horse, this horse, and sped away from the source of his pain, first north and then west.

Yet his flight had brought him no peace. Elvish memory was long for both pain and joy; it was something that had to be mastered if an elf was to remain within the world. In the first days of his flight he had wondered if he could bear it, feared that it might consume him, driving his spirit from his body to wander the world unseen until the end of days. Perhaps it was the painful memories of his father that had kept him anchored in the world for he found that much as he wished to let go of all that had been he could not, that something within mocked him for the very thought.

He had sought out the Ranger called Strider but found no sign of him, either north or south, nor met any who had heard of him. Only then had he wondered if his father had offered him the quest, something to pursue, so that his flight might not be totally without purpose. That he had given him a task to keep him anchored in the world. The thought weighted his spirit further for it spoke loudly of how fearful his father had been at the moment of their parting. Yet it also gave him strength for had he destroyed his father's love then he would not have cared enough to create the quest. In the lonely watches of the night as he lay and listened to the singing of the earth around him he held that action in his mind and warmed his heavy heart with it, and promised himself that when the time was right he would go home.

It was on the first day of spring of the third year after his leaving that he had realised that, though he grieved still for all that had happened, he thought of her no longer. Except perhaps to wonder where she had gone, for he knew that she could never return to the Woodland realm. Then he had experienced true bitterness, for he knew that he had been mistaken in his desires and that everything that had followed had been for naught. Sitting under a starlit sky he had watched the land below him and understood what he should have always known, had she been the one then they would both have known it, there would have been no question. Had she been the one and his rank had weighed upon her then she might have held from him but she would not have pursued the dwarf. Only then had he wondered what his father had known of the matter, for he was far sighted in many things and had known her well, if he had understood the hopelessness of his son's case then much was explained.

He had thought of returning home then, had even made a start upon the road, but as he had entered the empty lands to the south of Mirkwood his spirit quailed and he turned east towards the Great River, skirting Fangorn and crossing into the Wold. Then, passing south of Lorien, he had turned his horse's head towards the foothills of the Misty Mountains. For most of the rest of his travels he had avoided the world he was used to, keeping to the fringes of the mountains and the settlements of the children of men that dotted them.

The seasons had turned and turned again and still his heart remained heavy, the memories hanging like the webs of the great spiders over all his days. When he slept his dreams all too often pulled him back into the foothills of the lonely mountain and the bleak plateau of Ravenhill. Sometimes he felt that he was drowning in that icy river and he wondered what cold shores he would land upon and if he would ever find himself again.

At one point he had returned south and camped above Drimrill spending long summer nights staring out across the great River towards the shadow of Dol Guildur and the tower of the Necromancer, now dark and empty. It held a strange fascination for him, the sight of it bringing a feeling he could not explain. He had wondered if he should cross the river again and make some assault on that dreadful place, to make amends by ensuring it could never again threaten his people. As he watched the starlight dust its grim towers with silver he had considered if doing so would restore his peace. If he were to perish there at least his death might have some meaning and his father would never know of it.

But caution had prevailed, it remained an evil place so he had heard and there could be no certainty that the fleeing sorcerer had not riddled its very stones with dark spells and curses.

'What if the sorcerer had not fled, or had returned?' a part of his mind argued. 'What if he were taken by the Necromancer? Would such a foul creature not use the Woodland Lord's son to bend that canny king to his will? How much more ill might he do in the pursuit of redemption?'

Yet the thought of such an assault would not leave him and he found himself drifting ever closer to the low lands and the sight of the trees at the southern tip of Mirkwood.

In desperation he had sought distraction and more knowledge, and so in the sixth year of his wandering he had summoned up his courage and travelled west again finally entering the domain of Elrond the lore master.

The first time he came here it had been a rare occasion when his father had taken time for a visit of state to introduce his son to others of their kin beyond the Woodland realm. He had just attained maturity, a young elf prince whose horizons had been limited to the forests of his birth and the lands to the east. He had been bewitched by its beauty, the open spaces and mighty waterfalls that sent rainbows shimmering above him, a land so different to the forests of his home. Never before had he found himself amongst so many members of the Eldar and, though he had always considered himself to be a Silvan prince, for the first time he had felt the full weight of his Sindar descent. It had also been the moment at which he had realised how few in number were his close kin within the world and how great the numbers of his father's people were by comparison. Until that time he had not understood how much smaller these lands were when compared to the vastness of the realm of Mirkwood.

But he was no longer that young prince and he had long ago come to understand his past and its legacy, in truth he had accepted the respect and the welcome offered to him on his later visits as his due. There had been many other visits, for though much of his father's concerns were with the lands to the north and east of Mirkwood his kingship required that he maintained good relations with his Eldar kin and with the kings and other leaders of the children of men. But Elrond had always been the most frequent recipient of letter and visit and it was from the lore master that he had learned much of the history of his family and realm.

The beauty of Elrond's home was no less than before but his pleasure in it was much diminished, for everywhere he turned the echoes of the past intruded. His discomfort was fed by the curiosity, polite though it was, of those around him, for he had little to offer as reason for the visit, other than his questions about the Necromancer, and no letter from his father to explain it.

His host was courteous as ever but, like his father, Lord Elrond had far seeing eyes and must have noted his disquiet. But he had been kind, had asked few questions and answered many. As they sat before the fire, carved goblets of wine in their hands and with the sound of the harp drifting across from the other side the chamber, he had asked about the Necromancer and Dol Guildur. He had already heard rumours within Elrond's hall that the events there had not been as the White Council had expected and was more anxious than he liked to appear.

His host had been silent for a while staring down into the dark red depths of the wine as if lost in memory, then he looked up and he was sombre eyed and thoughtful; there had been a hint of sorrow in his voice as he replied.

"Perhaps we delayed too long, "

He turned to stare into the fire as if reading the past within it.

"Perhaps we did not want to believe that the spirit of evil had returned. Your father had long been concerned and had challenged the White Council to make a better assessment of the Necromancers power more than once, but in our error we had not felt the matter to be of any urgency. For that we owe your people some apology."

He sighed.

"Thranduil has always believed that Sauron would return in some guise, and the sorrows of his past battles against the darkness have given him not only a dislike of war, warrior though he is, but also considerable caution where the unknown and unexpected is concerned."

Elrond shrugged and watched his silent visitor for a moment, taking a sip from the ancient cup in his hand. Blue eyes watched him closely and he found himself thinking how like his father this prince was. Finally he drained his own cup and gave a rueful smile.

"Perhaps it was simply that he saw the evidence more clearly for I know that your people have fought long against the spiders spreading from the south. He would have had us act before we did but the Council balanced the risks of that action against the fortress and the nature of the current harm and agreed long ago that we would not take any direct measures unless it became clear that the evil was growing. Thranduil accepted that, though I recall it took considerable effort to convince him, and he moved his people further north so that the creatures of the dark would find it hard to follow. But though the evil pursued him, as you will know, he and we contained it."

Elrond rose and poured them both another glass of wine.

"None of us considered that the Necromancer was any great threat and certainly never did we suspect that it was the great evil returned. The spiders were the only true sign of the influence dwelling in that fortress and though they poisoned the forests it was not to a degree that could not be recovered. It did not seem such great magic of itself and still we thought that the evil that had once dwelt there was gone and what little remained was sleeping. "

"Yet it proved to be the greater evil?" the visitor said quietly hoping to hide the fact that this was something of which he had no knowledge.

Elrond sighed again.

"Yes. As I said we knew it to be an evil place full of dark magic and fearful spells, but that the spirits of the nine had wakened was unexpected. Much less…"

He stared into the firelight again his mouth set in a grim line.

"Only lately did we fully understand our peril. Weak as Sauron reemained only Lady Galadriel could act against him and it tried her sorely. Had we delayed but a little longer the matter would have been grave indeed. As it is he has fled to the East and while the ring remains lost he will stay there never again to wield power in Middle earth."

"And if the ring were to be found?"

Elrond met the watching eyes with deep gravity.

"Pray that it is not. But if fate should decree it so then it must be denied to him at all costs. Were he to regain it the world would burn again and all light and life would be lost to darkness and pain."

The visitor leaned forward in his chair and the blue eyes seemed to light with some unexplained fire.

'What then would be your council? Sauron is gone you say, should I venture to Dol Guildur so that I may report its state to my father? Should we look to pull down its walls?"

Elrond looked at him in concern, a deep frown upon his usually calm brow.

"Has Thranduil given you such a task? Is that in his mind? I would not have expected it of him! Is that the reason for your journey, does he fear that even now we chose to leave his kingdom at risk? Fear it so much that he will risk his son? How little trust of us must remain in him if that is indeed the case!"

Elrond rose quickly and came to stand over his visitor, dropping a hand onto his shoulder. The fire shone on the silver diadem that bound his dark hair and set a red glaze upon his pale skin. Grey eyes met blue with an intensity that had never ocurred in their conversations before and the visitor felt a surge of forboding. If Elrond read the look he said nothing of it but there was urgency in his tone.

"The relations between Noldar and Sindar have not always been as I would wish them but I thought us past such internal strife. We are the firstborn, brother and sister since the creation of the world despite all the ill that passed between us. We have fought the great darkness together before and only together can we banish it again."

He smiled a sad smile.

"I have fought alongside your father at time of great peril, starved and suffered with him. I have walked in the blood of enemy and friend and buried the mounds of our dead with him. Is all that forgotten? Does Sauron succeed at last in driving the tribes of the Eldar apart?"

Elrond saw his visitor swallow hard on some thought or feeling that he could not read and a cold hand clutched at his heart. He tightened his grip upon the elf prince's shoulder and spoke quietly but with the same urgency.

"If such a rift does exist then tell me now so that I may take measures to repair it, for a time of trouble is hastening towards us and such discord might be the world's downfall."

The other shook his head.

"There is no such rift that I know of and he has not bid me go to Dol Guldur, but the quest he tasked me with has come to naught and as I passed around the south of Mirkwood it came to me that a lone scout might go about there unseen and learn valuable information by the visit."

A look of relief passed across Elrond's face and he relaxed his grip.

"I see. For that I will admit to being most grateful but with your leave I will charge you with message for your father all the same, from myself and all the council, to deliver when you return home, I would not have him think that our failure to act sooner was for carelessness. "

The visitor nodded and smiled slightly.

"I do not return home immediately but I will carry the message with pleasure."

Elrond returned the smile but he felt the tension in the shoulder beneath his hand, a betrayal of something he still could not fathom, there was a momentary flash of something deep in his clear grey eyes that could not be read by his visitor.

"In your time my lord for they will travel best with you. As for the fortress I would ask that you stay away form it, for nothing and no one goes unseen within the shadows of that dread place. The time to tear it down may yet come but not until the evil can be considered truly banished or our need is dire beyond imagining; for the moment caution still seems the best course. The evil one is gone but the shades of the nine may have returned. They are weak without their lord's power and will pass once more into unquiet sleep, bound to those towers by the dark magic of Sauron provided the ring remains lost. Leave the place be my lord, the creatures of lesser evil are dispersing and it will cause no more trouble for your kin if all stay away."

He turned and seated himself in his chair once again, his robe pooling in a river of deep red around his feet. For a moment he seemed to turn his attention the music of the harp and the taste of the deep red wine, but it was only a little time, barely a verse of the song drifting upon the harp strings, before he spoke again and it was clear that the track of his thoughts were unchanged, though he continued with apparent care.

"I have heard that many of Sauron's new legions were destroyed at the battle of the five armies. If that is so then it is cause for some joy, as it will slow his return to power and may purchase many seasons of peace."

He looked into the blue eyes watching him from across the firelight and spoke softly.

"But that peace has cost your people and our other allies dear, for which there is also much sorrow."

He paused as if listening once again to the song and his eyes seemed to seek back into the past as if reading some ancient wisdom in the music. Then he drew a deep breath.

"Peace we may have but I fear it will only be for a short time. The loss of Samug may slow the coming of the time of trouble but I do not think it will prevent it, that nothing can, and great sorrow still awaits the world."

When he received no answer to his remark but an inclination of the fair head opposite he turned his eyes back to the depths of his wine.

"Dain is now king under the mountain, a situation that must be lived with but I confess it will make for some difficulties in the future. He never been the most reasonable of dwarves, and they are a generally difficult race. It will be fraught with difficulty for your people in particular, as you must already know; Dain distrusts our kind and has long disliked your father's power in the area around the mountain. He considers the friendship between men and elves to be a general threat and your own kin a particular one. Few elf lords remain in Middle earth that could raise an army to challenge the dwarves of the Iron Hills and their kin, but the king of Mirkwood could do so and much more."

Elrond turned his look back to visitors face with calm but considering eyes.

"Your father has no reason to love the dwarf nations I know and every reason to distrust them, will he make the effort to ignore Dain's provocations do you think?" He smiled gently, "for I expect those provocations to be great."

"So I believe." was all the reply that the visitor could manage.

Elrond smiled again but had not pressed him further, instead sitting back in chair and sipping from his wine and staring into the fire.

"Well Thranduil has never been a hostage to anger," he said eventually, "for he has lived long enough in this world to know its price, and he holds his oaths of kingship to be a sacred trust. He will be master of his annoyance unless Mirkwood itself is threatened."

He looked again towards his visitor.

"But with the dragon gone the security of his northern borders must be a matter of concern to him, and indeed to all of us who would see the northern and eastern lands held safe. Let us hope that Dain proves stalwart for I hear that the battle was fierce and though the army of the shadow was much decimated the losses of the alliance were also heavy. Tell me truly, were so many lost?"

The rider drew his horse to a standstill again staring down the path as snow started to fall more heavily; he closed his eyes and hung his head at the memory of that question for he had had no answer to offer Elrond, nor any hiding from the bitter shame of not knowing. The hint of sympathy and understanding in Elrond's eyes had nearly been his undoing and only pride and the thoughts of his father had kept him from betraying his grief and pain.

He had left Rivendell with Elrond's letters and that shame still burning in his heart.

How was it that the grief for the loss of one who had never been his had shut him off from the grief for those more truly lost? Elrond had dwelt long in the world and seen much sorrow and he would have understood, but how would others see it? Not well he would wager and what would that mean for his future?

But the past could not be changed and he would have to face the results of it at some point, the truth was that he yearned to be home, ached to be back amongst those he called his own folk. More than anything he wanted to defend this forest that was his home, his birthright; and his wandering had taught him that it would need to be defended, and maybe sooner than he, or any, would wish.

A stamping of feet and a soft whinny brought him back to the present moment. They had been still too long for the weather; he leant forward and stroked the snow spattered mane in apology.

"Forgive me my wandering wits" he said softly. He cast one more look around him then leaned forward in the saddle again to flick the ice from his horse's ear.

"Not long now and you shall have shelter and the sweetest hay you will ever know."

He spoke softly as if afraid to dislodge more ice from the rimed trees. Pulling his hood further forward he shivered.

"I hope that my welcome will be half as warm."

With a gentle nudge he encouraged his horse forward again. He had come this far and he must continue, for he must know if he still had kin, if he was still Legolas, son of King Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood or simply a wandering elf without family or folk.


	2. Chapter 2 Cold Comfort at the Gate

_Cold Comfort at the gate_

Night had dropped like a heavy cloak over the forest by the time he reached the end of the road and crossed into the last belt of trees before the bridge that spanned the river separating him from his father's gates. Above him the sky was black and starless and the whispering of the restless wind was rising towards a bitter howl. He shivered for a moment hearing the battle cry of the Orc packs within its harsh note.

Yet despite the cold and wind he lingered in the last trees, his thoughts no lighter than they had been as he travelled the road and his doubts as great. Once he rode out onto the bridge there was no turning back, he would have to continue and face whatever his home now held for him.

He sat in the deepest of the shadows looking across the darkness towards the final, and perhaps the greatest, barrier between him and his home. Images flashed though his mind like the fish he had once stalked in the reed beds in summer, twisting slivers of light and shine that disappeared before he could take hold of them. Pictures of silver winters and golden summers, of fiery autumns and soft green springs, the dance of the forest and its surrounding lands passed through his mind. These cycles the ripples on the endless stream of life that was both the joy and the sorrow of an elf.

In these last seven cycles he had wandered amongst the children of men, sat in their taverns and slept in their byres, he had played with their children and helped at their harvests, but he had come no closer to understanding them. Only here in the forest once again had he realised why. He was still young for an elf and yet he had seen great trees grow from their first timid shoots to be glorious giants and then watched them fail and return to the earth from whence they had first sprung; no mortal would ever see that, they would never see the cycle complete. The bloodlines and great deeds of Men, their cities and their hopes and dreams would bloom and fail in less than that cycle. Elf and mortal were ever divided by that, however much goodwill there was between them. If he had lost his people then there was no where else for him to go except to cross the sea.

Sunk in thought and memory he was oblivious to the cold and to the restless stamping of his horses feet and the clouds of white breath she sent out in deep and regular sighs as she looked towards the shelter she was still being denied. The rein was slack but though she knew that home was just a few steps away she caught her rider's mood and made no move towards the bridge. How long he sat there he could not say but finally a plaintive pull upon the rein brought him out of his reverie and back to the present, he whispered an apology and collected his wits. Raising his eyes again he stared towards his destination, long habit causing him to assess the scene before moving.

The river ran free before his father's halls despite the chill, as it always did; but the massive gates were closed. The lack of guards on the forest side told him that they were also barred and he wondered how often this was the case now, and if Elrond's assurance of returning safety was more wish and less fact that the lore master believed. Or was there some other reason for them to be barred?

He stared at the dark doors behind the pillars of stone and felt his heart sink further; in the days before the dwarves came they had often been open, though always guarded. Even on a winters' night they might be unlocked or at least the braziers lit, spilling light out onto the dark surface of the river, the sound of life seeping out into the silent trees. Some nights he had ridden out with his father, who never seemed bothered by the shadows, to the edge of the forest to watch the sky darken and the stars brighten. In better weather they would ride further out to the lands to the north and east where Thranduil's realm reached into the flat and tree shorn country between the forest and the mountain. Here they might camp over night before visiting some of the outlying settlements and joining in their feasts. Sometimes they would sit together beside the river and watch the night fish leap between floating petals or leaves or ice depending on the season.

But those rides had become fewer as the spiders became more numerous and the incursion by Orc and other spawn of the darkness increased. Then his father spent ever more of his time on errands he never explained. In the year before the battle at the Lonely mountain his father had spent the hours he once shared with his son in solitary pursuits away from even his closest comrades of old. Legolas could only guess at what these activities might be but they had left his father thoughtful and sometimes weary as if he had fought a long campaign without chance to rest.

But the spiders had withdrawn and Orc packs were now few this far south and west, or so Elrond had said, so it was not for safety that the gates were barred. Unless there was some peril he had no knowledge of. Yet he did not think that was the case for Elrond was a member of the Council and well informed, and all would be on the watch for any sign of evil returning. Mithrandir had said as much when their paths had crossed at a lonely inn deep within the Wold. So it was not peril that barred his father's gates.

To Legolas there seemed only one possible answer to that question at that moment, they were closed because his return was known.

Now as he stared at the cold river and the silent gate, the closed doors and the unlit lamps seemed to him a further sign of his disgrace; another portent of what he might face once he crossed the bridge. How great would be his humiliation, how complete his banishment, if he crossed the river to find the doors remained barred, how complete his loss and desolation if they opened and yet he was held by his fathers magic upon the threshold.

But cross it he must, or turn away and never return. With a sigh of resignation he let his horse move forwards and step onto the bridge.

They were no more than a pace or two across when he heard the sound of bars being withdrawn and the creak as the massive doors swung back. Light streamed out gilding the surface of the waters below him and scattering the shadows behind him. In that light he caught sight of several palace guards armoured and helmeted with lances at the ready, their shielded faces hiding both their identity and their thoughts.

A pace closer and he saw other figures emerge from within the halls, and these wore no helmets, though all had weapons at their belts. More than one of this company he had known well, elves he had shared many hunts and skirmishes with in the past, many songs and feasts too. In times past these friends and comrades would have called out to him, welcome offered in jest and friendly taunt. But not now, no voice was raised in welcome now, no familiar smile dawned. None of them moved towards the open door, instead they stayed behind the guards until another came from behind them with a burning brand and lit the braziers on each side of the gate.

The lamps flared up bright and white sending echoes of their flames onto the dark waters beneath the bridge. Still no one stepped across the threshold or raised a voice in welcome. Only the soft clip of his horse's hooves and the hiss of the heating lamps could be heard above the low song of the waters passing beneath the bridge.

'It is night' he told himself, 'and deep winter. They can expect no one and so caution must be their watch word and in the past I would have expected no less. Yet how can they not know who it is that approaches?'

He pushed back his hood allowing the light of the torches to bathe his face so they might see him better and he pulled his cloak closer around him, shielding the hilt of his sword to assure them of his good intent. But there was no change in their stance and the light he would once have felt from them was dimmed, the familiar warmth and sense of oneness absent. As with the forest he could feel no echo of their life light, it seemed as shielded as the guard's faces. Nor was there any outward sign of recognition, in face and stance they were impassive and even as he drew closer they looked at him as if he were a stranger.

Legolas felt another wave of sadness wash over him but it was shot with the first faint vestiges of hope for no weapons were drawn, no arrows nocked, at least none of them here saw him as an enemy.

As he reached the threshold he slid down from his horse, handing the reins to a young elf without armour who had hurried forward from behind the line of guards. A groom no doubt though not one he recognised, at least in as much as he could see, for the young one kept his eyes turned towards the ground. Legolas ignored the averted gaze and turned to draw the package of papers trusted to him by Elrond from his saddle bag, then turning back towards the door he pushed them beneath his damp cloak and spoke as normally as he could.

"She is weary, the ride has been long and cold, see that she is warmed and fed and given a comfortable place to rest."

The order was not needed for his horse would receive nothing but good care, yet he found that he had to break the silence, to strive for some pretence that all was well. The groom said nothing in reply, nor raised his eyes from the ground, and taking the offered rein he led the horse through the gates and away.

As he watched his horse disappear from sight he felt as if he were a prisoner being brought to trial, all hope of escape taken from him. Behind him night had claimed the forest and even if he turned and ran there was nowhere for him to go. He could only go forwards and hope that in time things might be set to rights.

Now that he was dismounted the guards seemed uncertain as to what they should do, but that uncertainty was less important to Legolas than the absence of any sign of welcome in their eyes. He could feel their unease now but no sense of joy at his return. The sadness within him deepened as he wondered if this was a sign of how it was to be if he stayed. But then what else could he expect? He had left his kin to the battle, elf warriors such as those standing before him now, to hurry to defend a dwarf to whom he owed no duty or loyalty. More than that he drawn his sword on his father, their king and commander, and issued challenge as he did so. By the laws of all the lands of Middle earth he had by that act alone committed treason; had it been some other who had behaved in such a way what would his judgement on them have been?

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, if they barred his way then would know that all was lost and that his wanderings could not end. Worse still he might find they gave way but that he still could not enter, for these were his father's gates, secured by him against their enemies and none entered unless his father permitted it. No one could bring him into the halls if his father's gate would not let him pass. Perhaps that was the source of their confusion, they did not know if the gate would allow him passage or not and did not want to be present if he were denied. But they gave way, drawing back their lances and allowing him to approach the threshold. Legolas squared his shoulders and stepped forward to face this final test. Relief washed through him as no magic descended on him and no barrier held him , one more step and for the first time since the battle at the Lonely Mountain he entered into the halls of his people.

Behind him he heard the great doors close and the swish of cloaks as the guards turned and resumed their inward facing positions. The closed door had not been for him it would seem, unless it was now closed to prevent him leaving. But there was no sense in that for having been permitted to enter the gate it would not allow him to leave again without with his father's consent.

The others remained silent and parted before him as he stepped forward standing in line to either side as watchful but as expressionless as before.

As the closing doors banished the chill of the night gentle warmth rose to greet him, the gift of the hot springs that Thranduil had diverted when first he moved his people here and built this fortress against their enemies. This warmth was aided by the line of flaming braziers that flanked the entrance hall. With a sigh of relief he shrugged off his ice glazed cloak and draped it over his arm, only then did he turn and look towards those watching him.

"Where is the king?"

"At arms my lord."

The voice of his father's steward came from the other side of the chamber.

Legolas turned and looked at him, meeting the same carefully schooled and non committal look as that worn by the guards and his comrades of the past. The steward gave a very small bow and indicated that he should follow as he moved out of the chamber and into the passage leading deeper into the halls. Without a look behind him Legolas obeyed, but he could not hide his surprise.

"At arms? Now, as night draws on?"

To practice this late in the day had never been his father's habit.

The steward sighed and shrugged.

"It has been a busy day my lord and he has not had any earlier chance. But he will not let the day close without he spends some time with a sword."

A look laced with some fleeting emotion that Legolas could not read drifted over the steward's face but when he spoke again his tone was as carefully schooled and as expressionless as before.

"He told us to be prepared for your arrival and I have instructed that your rooms be made ready for you. I am sure that a chance to bathe and a change of garment will be most welcome after the cold and dirt of the road."

Legolas didn't wonder how his father had known of his return; there was little that happened within his realm or the lands surrounding it that Thranduil didn't know of. But it was clear that he did not intend to greet his son here, and it would be wise to accept that graciously. So he smiled and strove to answer as he would have done had he just returned from a long hunting trip or some official business.

"That I would for the snow is thick in the wild lands and more than one road is impassable even on horseback. Many of the smaller streams and rivulets are frozen even beside the forest road, it looks as if this winter has been a hard one."

"Indeed it has my lord. Just keeping the river open the full length to the lake has taken much effort."

Legolas nodded.

"I imagine so. Winter has always been hard upon the river, either it sets as stone or overflows like a squeezed water skin. Or both in quick succession as I well recall. Many a dunking I have had when ice suddenly decided to be water again."

The steward smiled.

"Indeed my lord. But this season even the raft elves have found the river hard to negotiate and there have been times when even wine could not be transported in safety."

Legolas smiled, for warmed wine was a staple of his father halls in the coldest part of the year.

"A great trial for all concerned, and not least for the raft elves themselves," he said. "It is a harsh task to navigate the winter river without something to warm the blood."

There was a pause as they turned a corner and passed another group of palace guards, Legolas inclined his head in salute but the reply was slow to come and hesitant when it did. If the steward noticed he gave no sign. Legolas suppressed a sigh and followed him down the now deserted passage.

"How goes the rebuilding of Dale?" He asked after a moment. "It has been some time since I travelled east."

The steward looked at him and something uncertain stirred in his expression only to be buried again behind polite officialdom.

"Well enough my lord, we have spared as many craftsmen as we may to help but the task is a large one and there is much to do here that also needs skilled hands."

Legolas frowned.

"Yet the word in the west is that the evil retreats," he replied slowly, "or so I have been told. The White Council have purged Dol Guldor and the evil seeping from that place is stemmed. I understand that both spiders and Orcs are rarely seen now this far south and east. The fortress and surrounding forest is under constant observation from the Golden Wood and any change must be noticed. What then is our urgency?"

The steward hesitated and again there was that fleeing look of uncertainty before he replied.

"I am sure your father is best fitted to explain that, for there are few outside his inner council who know the sum of what he strives to do."

Legolas felt a surge of alarm, the first not on his own account since he had started on the road, but there seemed little purpose in asking more. Beside him the steward was now talking softly about the autumn floods and the increase in the price of grain that had resulted, how they had established new observation posts on the edge of the dark forest and the memorials his father had raised to the dead of Laketown. Another turn in the passage way and a great sweep of stairs took them up to the long twisting walkway that led to the entrance to the hall of audience and the gates to the Royal apartments. It was in this direction that they turned, their feet chiming on the polished stone.

As always the gates were guarded by members of his father personal guard, their shielded faces and draped black cloaks echoing the statues of warriors of the past. These guards were some of their most experienced warriors, most were silvan elves but amongst their ranks there were a few who had travelled with his father from the west. As a child he had found them both terrifying and fascinating in equal measure, now he wished he might see past their veiled helmets and read their faces to better understand what lay before him.

The guards opened the great silver gates to the royal living quarters as the pair approached but they made him no salute and he had expected none, when at their posts these guards recognised no one but the King.

A long corridor stretched before him, he could see the night blue doors to his father sanctum, said to be forged long ago and in another place from the mystical twin of mithril, at the far end, and the less imposing doors to his own rooms to the right. The lamps here were double in number and brightness and there were no shadows for anyone to hide within but at the moment it was empty, a certain sign that his father was elsewhere.

The steward had fallen silent and Legolas could find nothing more to ask, at least nothing that it would be wise to ask at this point, and so they continued down the passage each lost within his own thoughts. The steward reached the door to his quarters first and hurried to throw them open allowing Legolas to preceded him into the room but following quickly behind him and shutting the door as he did so.

He looked around assuring himself that it was as he had ordered it should be, then turned as if there was something more that he wished to say, but after a moment of awkward silence said simply,

"I will see that hot water is sent immediately." Then he bowed slightly and left closing the door softly behind him.

Legolas was both relieved and disappointed at his leaving, for though he wanted to change as quickly as possible and then find his father, it had seemed that the mood of the steward had shifted as they spoke, as if the first cracks in the cold wall of distance that marked his return had appeared. He would have liked to probe those cracks a little further. But perhaps it was wiser to wait.

He put the letters from Elrond onto the small table beside the couch smoothing the thick parchment and wondering, not for the first time, what they contained. Then he threw down his sodden cloak onto a chair before sitting down on the end of the couch and pulling off his wet boots; he threw them into a corner in a gesture of defiance, he would only need them again if he had to leave. His tunic followed and then his breeches and dressed only in his under garments he crossed over to the balcony that looked out across the forest river. From here he could see the gate but in the shadow of the pillars he could not been by those below him. But there was no one to see him, for though the braziers still burned brightly the gates were shut and all was silent.

For a while he stood and watched the flaming lamps, their leaping flames transporting him back to the dragon fire of Laketown. The town on the lake had smouldered for days, or so Mithrandir had told him, and in the end there was nothing left but blackened timbers, twisted iron and ash. Long after they had thought the fires extinguished small outbreaks would occur in unlikely places and this despite the cold and early snow.

He had understood then why his father insisted on halls of stone, for a forest would burn nearly as easily as a town of men. Legolas shivered at the thought, lucky it had been for the forest that the treasure of the mountain and Dale had been enough to keep Smaug satisfied. If he had not been then the trees would have burned and only these halls would have remained unscathed. Or would they? Would Smaug have been able to cross his father gate? Perhaps, but perhaps not. Was that why all the wealth of the Woodland Realm was held here, deeper even that the far greater dwarf hoard in the Lonely mountain? One day we would ask, at least he would if he and his father were ever on such terms again.

One of the braziers flared brighter for a moment as the fire found a particularly rich source of fuel and the flame took him back in time to another fire in a much humbler dwelling. What had Mithrandir been doing in the Wold? How was it that his business, whatever that might have been, had taken him to that isolated hamlet a long way from the road?

It had been in the third year of his wandering, early spring and he just decided that his quest for Strider would come to naught. He'd left the road to avoid a party of merchants guided by dwarves travelling west towards Gondor for some spring fair. He had ridden with them for several days until he could no longer bear the dwarves tales of the new king under the mountain and restoration of Erebor. When they had asked him where he was form he had said Rivendell and they had asked no more. But their tales had angered him for they spoke only of Thorin and Dain and the victory of the king under the mountain, the dead of Lakeside and of the forest forgotten. When he felt his hand itch for an arrow as they began another story he invented an errand and left them.

But not far from the road his horse had lost a shoe and on land such as this it was unwise to ride an unshod horse for long. So he had found the shoe and then led her for many miles until he found a village perched on a river crossing where the smith was willing to replace an elvish shoe. It had been near dark when he agreed the price with the smith and no chance of the job being done before the morning light and so elf and horse had found refuge in a small inn beside the village green. The food as he remembered had been simple and good, stew and fresh bread, but there had been no wine, the water was brackish and the ale sour.

Spring though it claimed to be the night was cold and the rain heavy and when he had settled his horse had found himself a place on a bench beside the fire to dry his cloak and warm his feet. He had finished his meal and been staring into the fire wondering what next to do if he abandoned his search for Strider when he felt someone sit down beside him. The inn was small but the company was thin on such a night and there were other benches and no need for anyone to sit as close as the newcomer did. Legolas had settled back a little easing his hand towards the knife in his belt. The newcomer did not appear to notice but leant forward to light a spill in the flames and used it to light an evil smelling pipe. As he blew out the first belch of smoke Legolas edged his hand closer to the knife hilt.

"Legolas Greenleaf," said a familiar voice, "are you so far gone in infamy now that you would assault a hapless stranger on the road?"

His hand dropped immediately and he turned to stare at the cloaked man beside him. The hood was pushed back to reveal and equally familiar face.

"Mithrandir! What are you doing here? I would have thought this place had little of interest to a wizard. Or is it that you seek more dwarves to set upon quests?"

The wizard frowned and indicated that he should keep his voice lower, then he puffed his pipe in silence until it was burning to his satisfaction.

"No," he said quietly," neither dwarves nor quests concern me at this moment. But what of you, what brings the son of Thranduil to such a place?"

Legolas had replied as quietly.

"A horse with a shoe in need of replacing, and a smith willing to do the deed."

His companion nodded.

"Ah, I see. That answers the particular, but what of the general? Why are you not back in Mirkwood or about your father's business. Or are you? Does Thranduil have interests in the Wold?"

"You are more likely to know that that than I Mithrandir"

That response had seemed to surprise his the wizard.

"Evasion Legolas? You have been taking lessons from your father."

Anger had flared in him then.

"I will not speak of my father with you Mithrandir," he had gathered up his cloak and made to rise, "nor listen to you decry him. My father fought well in a battle he did not want and of your making. Many of our kin, and those hapless fishermen, were lost to your scheme to profit the dwarves."

A hand had grasped his arm as he rose, stronger than the apparent age of his companion would suggest possible, bearing him down again. His voice remained low and became sombre.

"It was not for the preferment of dwarves that I set Thorin on his quest. Nor do I decry your father, and I grieve your losses deeply though I know that Thranduil does not always believe that. Legolas I would speak no ill of your father for I more than many know how difficult is the road he must walk. Evil on his doorstep and his people to protect with no magic, other than his own, and his will and wit, to assist him." He dropped his hand, "and a White Council that sometimes seems unable to see what is clear before them. "

He sighed and puffed on his pipe again before turning to face his companion.

"He fought the darkness once before and survived but he lost much, that I know even though it was an age before my own, Few remain now in Middle Earth that know the full sum of that evil and the price paid to defeat it, and your father is one. I do not doubt that he has memories so terrible that few minds could encompass them and survive, escaping them must be hard."

His tone seemed to take on a new intensity and meaning though he turned his gaze upon the fire.

"He is a good and wise ruler, Legolas, and I have never yet known his stoop to cruelty. Truly he is the greatest of the eleven kings of this age. You should not doubt that nor forget it."

Before Legolas could reply his companion looked back to him and smiled.

"I was not acquainted with Thingol for he was before my age, so I can make no fair comparison, and it was a different time, but I do not think that any dwarf would succeed in the slaughtering Thranduil in his halls. I have often suspected that was why he would not employ dwarf skill in the building of the Woodland realm, if they do not know its pattern then they cannot catch him unawares."

Legolas smiled to himself as remembered the humour in the familiar voice, for he had often wondered about that himself.

"None catch my father unawares," he had replied, "unless it is a hidden army of Orc."

The wizard's smile faded and he turned back to the fire and sighed.

"Yes, not my greatest success, I knew the Orcs were on the move in large numbers but that their strength was so great, that whole legions had been rebuilt. That I did not anticpate for it seemed too soon and there had been no sign of it that I was aware of. The Council knew that something was afoot but the full measure of it was hidden from us. Strange that now seems for the Eagles had long suspected that very large numbers of Orc were gathering in the dark lands and moving towards the lonely mountain."

He was silent for a moment staring into the fire as if seeing the battle once again played out before him. Then he turned and laid a hand upon Legolas's arm.

"But I ask again what it that takes you so far from your home? I know the evil is presently reduced and that the dark fortress is well watched but even so it must be something of great importance to take you away and keep you away so long. I was with your father not half a year ago and was told that you had been absent for some time."

Legolas remembered the uncertainty that had shaken him at that moment, and his sudden recollection of how the wizard had mentioned infamy. Fear had surged within him and he had wondered what to say. In the small silence that followed he thought he saw sympathy and understanding in the others eyes but he turned away from it, unsure of what was already known. Finally he fell back on his fathers last instructions.

"I am looking for someone called Strider, a Ranger amongst the Dunadian. My father sent me to find him but so far there is no trace.

The wizard frowned.

"Strider you say, but why would Thranduil send you…."

The words faded away, the sentence incomplete, and look of deep concern passed across his face, then in a moment it was gone. He puffed on his pipe again.

"Well no doubt he had his reasons, though it seems a strange thing for him to do."

"You know this Ranger?"

"No, though I have heard of him"

"Can you tell me where I might find him, or what his proper name might be?"

"Not at this moment. As for his name, did your father not tell you?"

"No, he said that I must discover that for myself."

Something deep and sad flashed momentarily in the wizard's eyes.

"Ah, I see."

"Then you can help me find him?"

"As I said, for the moment I could not tell you where this Strider is, nor help you to find him. But I think you will find him, though perhaps not when you expect to."

He had refused to say more than that and they talked then for a while of the fate of Lake town and the persistence of the Dragon Fire and of Bard's determination to rebuild Dale. At some point that he could not recall, nor how they had arrived at it, Legolas discovered that he was alone beside the fire with no sign of his companion anywhere within the inn. The following morning he had resumed his quest. But he had not found the Ranger called Strider, nor anyone who might tell him his true name. Another failure to lie before his father's feet and to ask forgiveness for.

But he was home, for the moment he remained one of the Woodland elves and for that he felt gladness and a lessening of the chill of despair. He turned from the panorama of the night and crossed to the adjoining room, his favourite robe was draped across a pile of drying sheets, a luxury he had not known sconce leaving Rivendell. Legolas wasted no time in shedding the remainder of his damp clothing and wrapping himself in the robe before returning to the balcony and the sight of the night beyond.

Hot water arrived but this time he spent no time in trying the read the faces of those who brought it instead remaining where he was, giving his thanks to those who attended to his needs without turning his head.

Legolas stared out into the deep blues and greys of the night wrapped forest and listened, but just as on the road all he could hear was silence. He tried once again to reach out and feel the life of the forest but the only thing that he could feel was the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Considerations of War and Trust**

Legolas did not linger long in bathing despite the pleasure of hot water for the first time since leaving Rivendell, just long enough to cleanse the dirt of the road from his hair and body and to allow the warmth to drive the last of the cold from his marrow. His urge to find his father was too strong to permit him to rest longer than he needed, or to take pleasure in the simple things that he had so long denied himself. But even as he rummaged through his chest to find a suitable change of clothes he felt the blanching of his stomach again and the tension began returning to his muscles.

'It is my father I am to see, not my executioner' he told himself angrily. 'Your father yes, but also your king,' another part of his mind responded. 'The king whom you abandoned and betrayed.'  
He straightened, staring with unseeing eyes towards the entrance to the balcony and the dark forest beyond, feeling the all too familiar sense of despair welling up again.  
"My father will forgive me." He told himself in desperation. 'I know that. He loves me; he let me leave because he loves me. Why should I fear meeting him?' He looked down at the green tunic in his hands and threw it onto the couch, it would do. But the battle within him was not yet over. 'Your father will forgive you, but can the King?" The traitorous imp that had ridden many long miles with him whispered. 'He has other claims upon him than his love for you. What more would you ask him to risk to give you peace?' He resumed his rummaging in the chest. 'Nothing.' He told himself. 'I would ask nothing more of him than his forgiveness as my father. The King must do what is best for the Realm and I will accept that without complaint.'

His hand seized upon a pair of brown hose and he pulled them free with unnecessary ferocity as the imp responded.  
'Easy enough to say when you know that he will hazard all to protect you. Did Mithrandir not hint as much to you? Wasn't that why he sought you out on the road to tell you that you might return home in safety? You do not believe that it was by chance he came upon you in that inn?''  
Legolas tossed the hose down beside the tunic. his temper rising he continued the familiar argument with himself. 'No I do not think it was chance, but nor do I think that he was telling me my father would risk all to spare me. He was doing nothing more than reminding me that the King was also my father.' Legolas crossed to another chest in search of undergarments, but still the imp within him persisted. 'Yet it did not bring you home did it?' It whispered. 'Why was that? Why the seasons of wandering since then? Because you did not believe or because you thought it better, safer, to let your father's grief and fear multiply in the hope that that way he might be willing to set the King aside?'

"No!' In fury at his thoughts he slammed the chest shut with such force that the sound would have brought a guard to him had one been at his father's doors. He leant down on the chest, squeezing his eyes closed in pain and anger. 'Why do such thoughts taunt me? I am willing to pay whatever price is needed there is nothing more that I can offer in recompense. Is that not enough to earn me peace?'

The imp fell silent and Legolas dressed with no further thought.

As he lowered the lamp before leaving his eyes strayed once again towards the darkened and silent forest.

'Have peace?' the sneering voice came again. 'Yet you cannot hear the forest. How can there be peace?' Legolas drew a deep breath and pushed the imp down into the darkness again, only when it was secured there did he set off to find his father.

xxx

The guards at the silver gate released the lock and drew back to let him pass but there was no point is asking them where his father was, if he was not in quarters then they would not know.

The thoroughfare was deserted this late in the day as most of those within the halls would be preparing for the evening meal and so he moved quickly towards his objective. When he reached the place where the walkway separated he struck left and strode up the slope that led towards the causeway spanning the great vault, and from there to the Hall of Audience

The Hall was lit as usual, the flames here were never allowed to die, but the carved throne was empty, one of his father's robes was thrown carelessly across the seat, not unusual, but of the king himself there was no sign. Nor were there any guards present which meant that he was not expected.

Was this good or bad Legolas wondered? Surely his father could not still be at arms, and he was not in his quarters, so where was he?

Legolas realised that he had expected to find his father here and waiting to receive him, for good or ill. On the journey home he had imagined their meeting many times but he had always seen it taking place here, and with some formality to mark the depth of his transgression. Was he going to be denied any audience? After all, as the imp of his dark thoughts so often reminded him, he had left his king and his kin in arms to protect a dwarf who had done nothing more than choose to follow his own kin and king to the end. He had not been long upon the road before he saw the irony of that; nor to see how his action might look in the eyes of those who had lost their loved ones in that same battle.

He stood at the foot of the steps up to the throne trying to steady his heart and curb his impatience but the imp broke free and his dark thoughts and memories closed in on him again. Father or no he had challenged his king, even if his words had not been seen as a direct threat, and by the light of the two trees let it not be seen that way, it was unlikely such an act could pass without some formal censure. He did not think his father would be unyielding, nor blind to the reasons for his hurtful words, but there were others who might speak of the need for some punishment to be levied on the wanderer returned for the good of the realm.

As for the fate of the one who had challenged, the one that he had truly followed? Only his father would tell him the truth of that. But he feared what he might say. Though it was hard for elf to slay elf it was more than good fortune that his father's guard had not done so that day, and in truth they should have done. Only the shadow of his father's protection over the transgressor had slowed them in setting their arrows flying, all that had prevented their action in the end had been his father's swift disarming of the challenger.

For which act his son would always be grateful.

But afterwards, what then? What had happened in the days after he had ridden away? Many were dead would one more have been noticed? 'Enough!' he commanded himself and pushed the imp back into the darkness. 'There is no point to this and until I know the worst I must hope for the best. It is madness to do otherwise.'

But he could feel the imp struggling to break free and in frustration he spun upon his heel and went swiftly back towards the causeway. If his father was not here and he was not in his rooms then perhaps he was still at arms after all. He would seek him in the practice grounds. The sooner this was done the better, it was already too dark to consider setting out again this night but if matters went poorly then it would be best for all that he should leave at first light.

Having left the great vault behind him he made his way deeper into the Halls, here the passages were not deserted and he passed both guards and unamoured folk on their way to eat as he made his way down to the lower levels. But just as it had been at the gate he felt no light from them, no joy at his return only a sense of uncertainty and distance. The few who acknowledged him did so hesitantly and many simply looked down as they approached him as if they did not wish to risk meeting his eyes. The imp of his darkest thoughts started to rouse again and, as he strode onward, he clenched his fists, set his jaw, and called up memories of happier times in the effort to keep it at bay. He gave no thought to what brooding expression might mean to those he passed.

As he left the main passage ways behind and travelled down into the service levels of his father's fortress the numbers of those he passed reduced quickly until he was once again walking alone. It was here amongst the myriad of small rooms that the cells that served as dungeons when needed were to be found. He paused for a moment beside one; here the dwarf that first began his pain had been housed. The door was unlocked for the room was empty and he stopped for a moment with his hand upon the lock before laughing at his own foolishness and turning away and striding on.

Another level down and he reached the armoury and the workrooms of the smiths that serviced it. Workshops flanked the passage ways, their furnaces set into the walls, the water drawn straight from the forest river. Here the metal masters plied their craft, creating and maintaining the weapons needed to defend the realm of Mirkwood. As child he had spent many happy hours watching the master smiths as they heated and hammered steel and iron. But at this time of the day none were about and there was no sound of hammer on steel, no heat from the furnaces and no smell of molten metal. The stone walls gave off a faint warm glow that spoke of earlier bustle, though most of heat of the furnaces, and the smoke, was channelled up through vents in the rock to warm the living quarters above them. Legolas strode past the empty rooms with barely a thought.

Beyond them were the workshops of the arrow smiths, the creators of bow and arrow. Like the smithy's all was silent and deserted but Legolas lingered here for a while wandering around the workshops, his eyes widening at what he saw. Piles of wood were stacked neatly beside many benches, large troughs of fletching stood at the side of the rooms and swathes of arrow silk hung from the long racks suspended from the ceiling. Looking at the stacks of timber and string awaiting the arrow smiths attentions Legolas felt his unease return; the depredations of the battle at Dale would have been made good long ago, and the evil was retreating so battles with the spiders must be fewer than when he left, yet this level of activity suggested that Thranduil's army was growing and at some speed and that stockpiles of provisions were being laid down. But for what purpose? Local conflicts? Dain, the King under the Mountain? Surely not. Legolas had heard of his taunting of the Elven king just before the battle, but the reports suggested that those taunts and insults had been childish nonsense, the words of a nursery bully aimed only at enraging Thranduil. But Dain he was no child and he would understand the need for peace with his neighbours and it seemed unlikely that he would repeat such reckless behaviour.

Legolas walked slowly from the workshops and towards the stair that led to the practice halls. What, then, was it that drove his father to these preparations for war?

Beyond the armoury and the workshops lay the walkways to the practice halls and it was there that he turned his steps. The red lamps were burning brightly, their glow flickering on the crystal grains within the stone of the walls; this part of the fortress was below ground level and away from the shafts cut up into the side of the hill there was no natural light.

The practice halls, how many hours had he spent here learning what was required of the prince of Mirkwood? Some part of every day in the years before he was permitted to train beyond the protection of the Hall. Many other winter days too; and days when the rain was heavy or when he first returned from some errand for his father. These passages brought back so many memories, the day his father had first put a bow into his hand and showed him how to draw it, the day he had put a sword into his hand and gripped his fingers whilst he learned to understand its weight and balance. The day his father had brought him here to formally introduce him to the masters at arms and his weapon tutors.

Yes he remembered these spaces well and the hour upon hour of muscle tearing learning; first to survive, and only then to win. More time than he would have wished perhaps, for since the shadow of evil had spread too much of his father's time, and his own, had been spent in the arts of war to have the space for gentler pursuits. Eve might yet prove him wrong but Legolas had the growing feeling that each one of those hours might yet prove their worth.

This realm had long been one where peace was hard won and uneasy, since the building of Dol Guldor it had been a land where danger might threaten at any time; and had threatened more with each passing season in the years before the death of Smaug. Legolas had not truly understood just how dangerous it might yet become until he had wandered beyond their borders, for until that time all his battles had been with the lesser creatures of the dark and perhaps he had not given thought enough to what else his father might fear was lurking or might come.

Something else for him to regret now that it might be too late.

The target yards were empty, so were the practice spaces of the lance men. But Legolas knew that he was not alone for he could hear the unmistakable ring of steel on steel ahead of him. He quickened his pace and ran up a short flight of steps to his right, these took him to a small gallery overlooking several arena used for sword practice. Only the central one was occupied.

His father was dressed in light mail, a sword in either hand, his eyes bound by a scarf whose ends fluttered behind him in the breeze of the swirling blades. Around him six of his personal guard circled, three with swords and three with lances, and they moved in ever shifting patterns, light of foot and quick of hand they feinted at the king without let or hesitation. Without external sight Thranduil was relying on his hearing, the movement of the air around him, and the internal sight that warned him that his enemy was nea,r to deflect their attacks. Legolas could see no sign that they were giving his father any grace, and what would be the purpose of the exercise if they did, and yet his guard seemed unfaltering and no blade tip came within a killing distance.

As he watched three attacked from front and side and one of the circling warriors came up behind the king and caught his hair, twisting it around her hand and pulling him backwards. Thranduil made no apparent move to resist her pressure, instead gracefully following the backward tug, never exposing his throat and guarding his torso with one sword while changing his grip on the other; then, as it seemed she must either pull him down or break his guard, he moved in the opposite direction, circling his body behind his guarding blade and turning his head slightly as he did so, then in a sudden movement he drove hilt of the other sword up and back into her shoulder. Her grip on him failed as the blow took the power from her arm and hand and he ducked and turned away pulling free and turning the blade again to drive back an approaching lance tip.

Legolas smiled as he watched, he knew that he was not the equal of his father with a sword, and some part of him hoped he never would be for that would require the forge of the worst kind of battle, But with the bow he thought he could equal him, or close to, though it was hard to judge when his father rarely took up the bow these days. Legolas never wished to ask why, for he had seen the sadness in his father's face when he touched one, and it was the same sadness that he saw whenever his father looked south and east towards Mordor.

The dance of sword and lance continued, the elf lords circling and his father defending. Occasionally, when the opportunity presented, he would attack, sometimes with one sword sometimes with both, the clash of steel reverberating around the arena. The circling opponents continued their testing of his guard and the king continued to evade their advances, his movements quick and graceful, his concentration absolute. The Sindar were a tall race and his father was taller than many with a long reach and stride, a considerable advantage in close combat if you knew how to use it; Thranduil did know how, for he took his duties seriously, both civic and martial. As their King it was his duty to lead in battle as well as elsewhere, to be a practised and effective warrior just as he must be fair in dealing with disputes, protective of the weak and alert to the machinations of their enemies. But it was clear that at the moment the martial aspect of his role was very much on his mind, and the question had to be why.

Legolas frowned as he watched them. How long had they been here? Certainly since before he had entered the gate, but there was no visible sign of fatigue in any of the participants. A slight sheen of sweat could be seen on a brow as one or other of them passed closer to a lamp but that was all the sign that any effort was being made. That his father put in so much practice at the end of a long day spoke to Legolas of an anticipation of war that current events did not seem to justify, Even during the worst years of the forest sickening he never known his father practice this late in the day. It also seemed unlikely that the return of the king under the mountain would be the cause. Some other dark news must await him and he frowned as recalled his years away from the Wood wondering what it might be.

Such thoughts were curtailed as he saw his father change from defence to attack, driving the back those around him in a swirl of blades. Then, without any apparent warning all six lowered their weapons, obviously at a sign from the king. Thranduil reached up and pulled the binding from his eyes and looked to where Legolas stood watching, a smile, soft and warm stealing across his face and into his eyes. He raised a sword in salute, and then indicated that Legolas should join them in the arena.

A sense of something he could not name took hold of Legolas as he descended the steps, and his instinct was proved correct when he entered the arena for he was immediately hit by a feeling of chill, something not quite threatening but not far from it and he felt the beat of his heart increase. The looks of the six behind his father were not openly hostile, though their looks were sharp and steady, yet he could feel their sudden shift in readiness and a sense of cold as if a door to the night forest had been suddenly opened.

Thranduil seemed unaware of the change and when he spoke his voice was low pitched as ever, warm and easy.

"Legolas, I am glad to see you home, and sorry that I didn't meet you at the gate." He gestured his welcome, " I had not intended to spend so long at practice but we have used a new forging to craft these swords and I confess I became bound up in exploring their balance."  
He met his son's uncertain glance with a measuring look and then tossed one of the two swords he carried across to his son.  
"See what you think of them."

As Legolas caught the sword, his father raised the one he still held in a brief salute and then made a feint in his direction.

Legolas felt a surge of horror run through him as he realised what his father intended, that they should cross swords here and now without further words between them. He opened his mouth to protest but his father's blue gaze locked on him, suddenly grim and with a hint of warning in its depths that held him silent. Instead he shifted his grip on the hilt and prepared to face whatever was coming. Behind him his fathers guard retreated to the wall but their grip upon their weapons did not falter.

Thranduil might have been at practice for hours but there was no weariness in his assault which came quickly and with some force driving his son back towards the wall. Legolas nearly stumbled as he struggled to establish his guard for he had forgotten the strength of his fathers arm, the speed with which he could move and his balance even when at stretch. The Elven king's movements were perfectly controlled, sparing, even lazy, and his pale gold hair seemed to barely move upon his shoulders; and yet he seemed to be everywhere at once, thrust and parry flowing in a fluid motion one from the other. Wherever Legolas sought to strike his father's sword was already there to block him and his defence never took so much attention that he could not exploit the slightest opportunity to attack, ;his son soon found that simply maintaining his guard was taking all his attention. The reach he had noted in the gallery was now deployed against him, forcing him back to a point at which he could not strike with confidence but where his opponent could still harry him with ease. On several occasions he was caught wrong footed struggling to stay on his feet as the king's blade came close to touching him.

Yet on each occasion the sword was drawn back, the blow turned aside before any contact was made and as they progressed so his first fear, that his father had decided not to forgive him, passed. As it did so he relaxed letting memory take over and his body respond without conscious thought. Now he managed to probe his father's guard a little, sword sliding over sword in a scrape of steel as his advance was repelled.

Behind him he could hear the slight movement of the watching guard; he was not sure what would happen if he did penetrate his father's defence, for the six included three who had been at his father's back during that terrible encounter in Dale and they still had not disarmed. But he was suddenly sure that his father would not allow him to surrender easily nor to call a halt to the exchange. In which case there was nothing to be done but continue to the end. Legolas set his jaw and prepared to follow where his father led, to do the best that he could and take whatever the consequences might be.

How long this exchange of thrust and parry, attack and defence continued Legolas could not judge for all his attention was taken by watching the sword in his father's hand. One thrust of his came close to passing Thranduil's sword only being turned away at the last moment, he saw the king smile slightly as he parried it, a look of approval passing across his face. Emboldened Legolas pressed more vigorously, suddenly forgetting who his opponent was and why they were in contest. It had been a while since he had practised but as he relaxed old skills seemed to return and he increased his efforts seeking for a gap in the barrier presented by his opponent's sword. Suddenly he saw it and a surge of satisfaction took him forward, he lunged with all the power of which he was capable, sure that the defence would crumble before his blade. But the feeling was fleeting and a sense of dread over took him as he realised what he was doing and that it was too late to pull the blow back. He had a moments vision of his sword striking home, the thin mail his father wore parting beneath the blade, the kings blood staining the floor and of himself imprisoned by his father guard or dead at their feet. He sent up a silent plea to the Valar that his father's mail would hold.

But the blow never landed and instead he found his sword turned away with a force that sent it spinning from his hand, his forward motion carrying him into the wall and then to the ground. Slowly he raised his head and looked up into his father's face afraid of what he would see. But Thranduil was smiling slightly and extending down his hand to help him up, the sword still gripped in his other hand.  
"My son it seems that you have had little chance to practice on your travels or you would never have made such a mistake."  
Legolas took the offered hand and shook his head as he got to his feet.  
"Perhaps, but I doubt that it would have made much difference. Poor discipline I grant you, I should have suspected such an opening, but I will never be your match with a sword."  
"No perhaps not, but then you prefer the bow or knife."

His fathers tone was quiet and there was something about it that caused Legolas to look at him closely; in the calm face opposite he read a slight satisfaction and yet a warning too. It was only then that he became aware of the slight change in the atmosphere around him and looking behind his father he saw that the expression on the faces of his guards had relaxed and they had lowered their weapons.

Thranduil caught his look and smile intensified for a moment before he picked up the fallen sword and holding it out in front of him looked along the edge of the blade.  
"What do you think of the balance?"  
Legolas looked at him in momentary confusion unsure of the purpose of the question, and then he responded as calmly as he could.  
"I would need more time to be sure but it seems to be as good as any I have ever known. Close indeed to those forged by our kin in earlier times."  
Thranduil nodded, and he raised the one he still held and looked down along its blade.  
"I agree. I think them to be close to the swords of old, they are nearly a match for those I carry and those were forged long ago."  
Legolas looked at him with a frown.  
"Are you anticipating another such war that we would need such great blades again?"  
"Not immediately."  
"Yet you think such a war might come again?"  
"Who can say? But though the evil seems to be retreating for the moment I have known such ploys before."

Legolas recalled another converstaion and nodded.  
"I have letters for you from Rivendell, Lord Elrond also has some concerns. Letters that he would only trust to me, though he would not say why that should be the case."  
Thranduil's smile was chilly.  
"I can think of several reasons why that might be so. But I will withhold judgement until I have read them."

Behind him the elf lords were murmuring amongst themselves as they sheathed their weapons. As they turned and bowed to their king each one looked across at Legolas, nodded slightly, and muttered 'my Lord' quietly, nothing more than acknowledgement but it was freely given and it caused a sense of relief so strong that it almost took his breath from him. The king returned their salutes and watched in silence as they departed leaving him alone with his son.

As Thranduil turned back to towards Legolas his smile dimmed.  
'There is much ground to be recovered, my son, but a small step can lead to larger ones quite quickly if the steps are those of the right people."  
Legolas understood then, it had been about trust; the king's demonstration of his trust of his son, his guard's demonstration of their trust in their king's judgment. The two together would make it possible for him to return, to give him the chance to recover the trust he had lost amongst others. Perhaps he might even learn to trust himself again. He looked up at his father.  
"And you, how much of your trust must I regain?"

A look of sadness crossed his father's face.  
"Regain Legolas?" his voice was soft. "None, for you never lost it."  
Legolas looked down.  
"Yet I threatened you."  
Thranduil waved the remark away his look of sorrow deepening.  
"It is forgotten. Your actions were hasty and unwise but your pain was visible enough for me to understand the reasons even as it happened. I would have spared you that but I failed to do so, which I will always regret."

He reached forward and grasped his son's arm.  
"There are things we must discuss, but not here. Have you eaten yet, for I have not."  
Legolas shook his head and his father smiled.  
"Then we will dine in private and speak of those things we need to in more comfortable surroundings."


	4. Talk of Battle and Rings

_Reflections on battles and rings_

For those who lived within the shelter of the Elven king's halls the evening meal was a communal one. In spring and summer fewer of their people lived here, even in the dangerous times, and meals were less likely to be eaten in doors or as formally. Feasts would be held beneath the stars during clement weather with his father riding out to share in the merry making of the various clans, meals often eaten by campfires beneath the trees. Or he would ride further afield to the villages scattered across the flat lands beside the river, north towards the Lonely Mountain and east towards the Lake. In these villages lived many of the wider kin of the Woodland elves who also called Thranduil their king.

But now in the depths of winter many from the flat lands and the settlements beside the forest river sought shelter here. It was the only time that this fortress palace felt fully populated, and feeding them all was a large undertaking tackled with an almost military precision. Come sundown fires would be lit in the raised niches set the length of each wall of the Great Hall, the smoke escaping through channels cut into the rock, and the scent of burning wood and herbs would perfume the air of the huge chamber. Here any elf who wished to do so would gather to chatter and tell stories and share the news of the day; and in the process eat and drink their fill. Seating was arranged at large refectory tables where platters of food and jugs of wine were provided as required. For a part of the eventime the King would be seated at the head of a large table on the dais at the top of the vast room surrounded by his advisors and personal guards, and any notables that might be visiting. To Thranduil's right was his son's chair, though when there was no one to entertain Legolas would often spend little time in it preferring to seat himself with those of the guard he had been out in the forest with that day. The king had long ago made it clear that he approved of such arrangements.

Once the king had eaten what he wished a platter of nuts would be placed in front of him as a signal that any elf in the hall could approach. This they did for many reasons from a request for formal audience to introducing a new child of the Realm. His father was always very patient with such encounters, though his servants were not always as forbearing. These claims upon his time only ended when he signalled for the music to begin. Harps and flutes would be played, and songs sung, sometimes dances would spring up, reels and rounds passed down across the centuries. It was usually then that the king would leave the hall and wend his way to his own quarters to read or study letters from the world beyond their boundary. The duties of the king of such a large realm as Mirkwood were often heavy and Thranduil allowed himself very few hours of leisure during the day. Only at starlight would he seek solitude or the company of those he counted as friend or family

But tonight the king's chair in the hall would be empty, instead he was breaking bread in his private quarters and his only company was to be his son. Elves are not so different from men or dwarves that they are above a little gossip when events justify it and rumour had already spread throughout the halls that Legolas had returned, and there wasn't an elf present that lacked an opinion on the matter. Many in the great hall that night were disappointed that they would not witness the encounter between the two for the stories about the king's reaction to his son's return had already encompassed threats of banishment and execution as well as tearful embraces and other things as unlikely, and as the wine flowed rumour reached for ever higher levels of improbable drama.

As for the two concerned, neither expected their meal to be a comfortable one for they knew there was much to say, including things that both hoped would never be broached again once the new dawn broke. The only witness to any part of their conversation was Galion, the king's butler, and he would repeat nothing of what he heard, little though that was.

Legolas had arrived first, having no need to change his clothes. He took his accustomed chair beside the fire and looked around him at familiar things he had feared never to see again. He knew this room well and loved it, for here Thranduil was only ever his father, never his king, and it had played host to many of his happiest memories. Here they celebrated family events, played games of strategy and chance, spoke of books and music, and shared news of the days' events and of those they knew. Here his father had taught him to play the lute, schooled him through the etiquette of banquets and other diplomatic hospitality and helped him though his first stumbling attempts at formal dance. On the balcony at the end of the room, looking out over the tops of the great wood they had shared their last words of accord before he had set out to find…. her.

But there was time enough to think of that later. Before the sun rose he must know how things stood, whether he could remain and what the price of him doing so might be. But for this brief moment he wanted only to lose himself in the comfort of the past and recall better times.

He rose and crossed to a small table beside the door where Galion had set a flagon and two drinking bowls, the wine within the flagon was deep red and headily scented, bringing with it the spirit of the far away place where the vines had grown. For a moment he rejoiced in its song for it filled the void left by the silence of his people and his forest, then he sighed and poured himself a glass, shunning the fire and taking it to the balcony. He stared out into the night, at the veil of snowflakes that now hovered above the trees, and listened to the song of the wind as it formed a duet with the fire. Legolas laid his head back against the pillar and let memory overtake him.

How long he stood there he could not say, nor what he thought about in that time. But he only returned to the present when he felt a hand upon his shoulder and he turned and looked up into his fathers face.

As was his custom here Thranduil had dispensed with his crown and was dressed as informally as his rank ever permitted. He had not resumed his coat and his white silken shirt was unlaced and visible beneath one of his favourite robes, on his feet he wore soft shoes much like Legolas's own. Rings were once again upon his fingers and in his right hand he held the oaken staff of his lordship, carved with the ancient runes of his Sindar line, sigils of his Silvan people and his oaths of kingship given at the time of his crowning. He passed beside Legolas and placed the staff in its accustomed place beneath the green and gold banner of the king that hung upon the far wall. Then he crossed to the wine table and poured himself a cup of wine before sinking into his chair beside the fire.

Legolas left his place beside the balcony and crossed to join him, resuming his own chair in silence. For a moment that silence stretched between them as both stared at the flames and sipped their wine. Finally Legolas broke the silence.  
"It looks as if this winter has been a hard one, but the story on the road was that since the Councils cleansing of Dol Guldor the creatures of dark magic are withdrawing."~}  
His father nodded.  
"It has and they are. Though whether their disappearance is to be considered permanent is less clear, for I doubt that fortress has returned to the light. But it is true that none of the Necromancers creatures have been seen this side of the mountains for three circles of the seasons, and the scouts I have sent further south have encountered none."  
"How far south have your scouts ventured?"  
Thranduil sighed slightly.  
"Not so far yet as to be sure that there are no nests close enough that they might send forth new colonies to plague us. We must remain cautious for it seems unlikely that the spirit of darkness would leave no watchers behind. Even if that were to prove the case the history of that fell place cannot be washed away in so brief a time. However there are some signs that forest is recovering, only time will tell how much of what was done can be undone."  
Legolas stayed silent for a moment, knowing that to probe further would betray his loss of the forest's voice, but there was no point in trying to hide the silence that so distressed him for his father would soon discover it. Better he knew it now.  
"What are your feelings on the matter?" Grief entered his voice despite his best efforts to prevent it." I can no longer hear the voice of the forest, nor know whether its pain has reduced."

A look of sorrow passed across Thranduil's face but it was fleeting and he responded without hesitation.  
"The darkness weighs less heavily and the song of the wood grows clearer; and it speaks more of life and joy than in recent times. But as yet it remains muted and I cannot hear or see beyond the mountains. The lament of death and pain remains strong in the forest further south I think. When spring returns you may lead a company across the mountains and better judge the matter for me."  
Legolas looked across at his father in surprise but Thranduil was still staring into the fire. He drew a deep breath and prepared to broach the matters that had occupied his thoughts every day since his leaving, but he was thwarted by the door opening and Galion's entrance with a tureen and a platter of bread.

Hearing his slight huff of disappointment Thranduil looked towards his son and smiled slightly at the frustration in his face. Legolas had never been one to cope with set backs easily and matters clearly weighed heavily on him; yet he must know that the die was cast many moons ago and that one more small delay would not change things nor alter events after he had left. How he would adjust to the consequences of those events remained to be seen. He leant back in his chair and looked down at the seal of the woodland king upon his finger as the butler bustled about setting the table and moving the jug of wine, knowing that it would be a kindness to distract his beleaguered son but unsure of what to say, at the moment it seemed there was no safe topic of conversation between them. Finally, as the butler made no move to hurry in his tasks, he settled on matters they were both already aware of.

"Lord Elrond's letters were most informative, did he discuss the contents with you at all?" he said calmly tracing the outline of his royal crest on the rings surface with one finger as he spoke.  
Legolas shook his head making clear effort to curb his impatience.  
"Only a very little. His concern was that you would consider the council to have been negligent in their dealing with matter of Dol Gulder, given what they found to be there. He seemed worried that you might feel some anger at the trouble our people have had to endure as a result of it."  
Thranduil smiled slightly.  
"Yes, so his letters say, and well he might! But I acquit him of any deliberate negligence or ill will towards us; we have known each other too long for such doubts. There are those amongst the Noldar who view the communion between Sindar and Silvan with disfavour, but they are few these days and I do not think they would find a haven in Rivendell. Yet it is clear that he fears tension between us, worse perhaps, something more than just my poor opinion."  
He sipped his wine and stared towards the fire again as if seeing the letters there.  
"Which suggests that he, too, does not think the matter to be ended; I cannot help but feel that we will all pay dearly for the council's views on the matter in the past, "he said eventually.

Legolas looked across at him with raised brows but his father continued to stare into the flames as if seeing something more than firelight, but it was clear from the tightness about his mouth and the frown between his eyes that the image he saw was not a pleasant one. Eventually his eyes flickered up and he cast a quick look toward the butler now laying bowls and spoons on the dining table.  
"Do you agree?" Legolas asked quietly.  
Thranduil sent his son a warning look and returned to his fire watching, the light of the flames set golden sparks flaring in the blue depths of his eyes, making the nature of his expression hard to read. When he spoke again his voice was low and expressionless.  
"It is true that I have long wondered about the Necromancer and his dark arts. I have been concerned that he might in some way wake the dread spirits of that place from their sleep, though I never thought that it would be by intent or ability, more that chance or some other dark power would intervene. The spells that bind that evil place are old and terrible, and their power is such that it should not be disturbed if it can be avoided, on that I have always agreed with the council."  
He shrugged slightly.  
"Nor did his power seem so great; and the watch keep upon it from Lothlorien seemed precaution enough. The spiders and other foul things that turned Greenwood to Mirkwood were not the stuff of the darkness of old, but the chance that it might grow has never been far from the thoughts of any who knew that older darkness. While the evil showed little sign of growing and the Necromancer's creatures did not spread beyond the forest caution seemed best, only when the spiders skirted the mountains and followed us north did I begin to wonder if the councils' guidance was to be relied upon, or if they were deceived in their beliefs."  
He fell silent as he sipped his wine again his thoughts still apparently somewhere other than this room.

"Did you not seek to pursue the matter further?" Legolas asked eventually.  
His father stirred himself from his reverie and nodded to Galion who was placing the jug of wine upon the table, the butler bowed and left the room.

Now some of Thranduil's caution left him and he chose his words less carefully.  
"No, as I said it was agreed that none would disturb the fortress at Dol Guldor and as far as I'm aware the pledge has been adhered to by all parties. Though sometimes I have thought them too unwilling to see the danger for what it was."  
He frowned.  
"I am still unsure as to what caused them to act when they did and Elrond has never been explicit as to the matter. Celeborn may have sent scouts to the edge of the southern wood, I had agreed to him doing as much when I moved our people north, for Lothlorien is much closer to the evil place than we these days. Perhaps he encountered something there or perhaps their watch revealed some change in the fortress. But why they acted then is still unclear to me, for the evil has not spread, neither west, south nor east, only north and we have borne the brunt of the darkness. But if Celeborn, or Elrond for that matter, learned something new neither have said anything of it."

Legolas felt a surge of surprise. How much had been happening within his realm that he had known nothing of?  
"Are you in contact with him on the matter then?"  
Thranduil looked at him in surprise.  
"Celeborn? Yes of course, we have communication on many things, the Lady too on those matters closest to her. All those who have history in the fight against the darkness know that we must remain vigilant, and we share such information as we have. Not just the eleven lords, but the sons of men too. The dwarves have been less forthcoming but then they no longer have any Halls within the lands beside Dol Guldor and few cross the Brownlands so I doubt they have had reason to visit there."

Thranduil rose from his chair and crossed to the table indicating that his son should follow him. Removing the lid from the tureen he filled a bowl with thick soup and placed it in front of Legolas before filling his own.

"So the Necromancer is gone." Legolas broke bread noting with idle pleasure that it was as warn and soft as any he had eaten since he left these halls.  
Thranduil swallowed a spoonful of soup and cast his son a serious look.\  
"Within this room and between us two there needs to be no pretence or did Elrond not tell you what they found when they finally took action?"  
Legolas nodded.  
"I had already heard rumours and he confirmed what I judged to be the case. The Necromancer was the spirit of Sauron returned."  
Thranduil's eyes skipped past his son to the darkness outside and the shadow of the great trees.  
"Yes, the old darkness returned." He said softly. "But weak, as yet, and still wishing to hide."  
"Elrond seemed to suggest that you were not surprised at this."

The king reached for the bread and continued to stare out to the forest as he broke it his eyes slightly narrowed as he replied.  
"That Sauron was not destroyed? No, that does not surprise me I have long expected that it would be the case."  
"Why?"  
Thranduil smiled a slight and bitter smile.  
"Such evil is hard to destroy; all of us who stood at the gates of Mordor know that for we lost much that was good and loved, thrown against the wall that is the love of power and darkness. It only takes a shard, a fragment, to remain in the heart of one and it will flower again like a blasted oak when spring returns. Making sure each shard is removed can be hard and may require harsh action, which those who have fought and suffered together are often unwilling to take. Kindness and the wish to give comfort can lead us to unwise acts and so grant the evil its chance to return."  
Legolas frowned.  
"Was it the case here?"  
He nodded.  
"Yes, Isildur should not have been permitted to take and keep the ring, it should have been destroyed then and all possibility of its malign influence removed. Elrond should have ensured that it was so, for without it even Sauron cannot regain what the evil lost that day. But…" he spooned more soup, "he did take it, and paid a high price for doing so. Yet the price may not be paid in full for Sauron knows that it remains and with it the possibility of him regaining the power he desires if he can but find it"

A sense of dread took hold of Legolas.  
"You believe that the evil will flower again?"  
His father nodded.  
"Yes, I can see no other outcome of that seed sown before Mordor. Certainly not now for Sauron was not destroyed at Dol Guldor he merely departed the fortress and fled east and there he will wait and grow his strength. He will be patient; he will wait until the Ring emerges from its hiding place again."  
Thranduil fell silent as the door opened and Galion returned to clear their plates and bring the next course. He sent Legolas another warning look and changed the course of their conversation.

"Bard has chosen to rebuild Dale, though I would have thought the new city on the lake was large enough for his people. But it their choice and with Dain now ensconced in the mountain more people may move there from further east."  
Legolas felt the tension within him start to grow at the mention of the name and place but he drew a deep breath and turning his mind away from that day and towards some of the talk he had heard upon the road.  
"I have heard that there are problems in the eastern lands, "  
His father frowned slightly.  
"So it seems but for the moment it is unclear whether it is anything more than the unrest that there has been ever since the defeat of Sauron. There were many men in the east that had allied with Sauron in the hope of being granted power by him. Their bitterness at his defeat has never truly passed, no more has their desire for wealth and power."  
"The death of Smaug may make for change. As you say the people of Dale can rebuild and improve their defences."

Conversation had taken them to a question Legolas had long wished to ask his father, and he had spent many dark times on the road debating, if only to avoid other thoughts, never being satisfied with the possible answers. Now it seemed he might ask without offence, not even the butler's presence need by a constraint.  
"I have wondered about that. Why did you take so large an army to the Lonely Mountain if you did not believe the Orc armies to be there?"  
Thranduil leaned back slightly to allow Galion to set a plate of roast meats before him and the butlers shadow prevented Legolas from reading his fathers first reaction to the question. By the time the butler moved to collect a dish of roasted vegetables his father's face was as calm and expressionless as usual.  
"Not in the anticipation of war, mare's the pity as events turned out. Had I believed that we would face the things we did that day I would have had the company more heavily armoured with more on horse and fewer on foot."  
"Then why?"

His father smiled slightly.  
"What was your first thought when you heard the dragon was dead?"  
Legolas frowned as he struggled to recall, he had put much effort into not remembering and now some details were hazy. Then it came to him, a snippet of conversation with the man Bard beside the lake. Yes of course.  
"What might come to the mountain with the dragon gone." He smiled down at the plate of meat his father handed to him. "What it might mean for our security."  
Thranduil nodded and started to help himself to vegetables indicating that Galion might leave them again. He waited until he heard the door close before replying.  
"Yes, and you were right to fear it. Dangerous though Smaug was his presence prevented other threats from stealing upon us, as did the King under the Mountain before Smaug came. If the dragon was dead then the rumours of the hoard would bring many dangers, those from the east that we just spoke of, as well as other nationless men and Orc. I would prefer to choose my neighbours in times such as this, if I may, or at least have some confidence in their ability, and so the situation required remedy. To occupy the mountain seemed the least dangerous option, provided it was done quickly."

Legolas cast his mind back to that time again, feeling the familiar sense of the black imp of despair stirring. He pushed it away and looked towards his father.  
"You did not trust Oakenshield or think that he might have survived?"  
"No I did not, on both counts. But my view of the dwarf mattered little at the time, for my informants told me that a man of Laketown had killed Smaug, which seemed to suggest that the dwarves were dead. If the dragon had left the mountain they must have woken it, which seemed to imply certain death given the temper of dragons. I did think that it might have been better for all if he had remained my prisoner, or if he had accepted my help in gaining his goal. But the dwarf had all the worst flaws of his grandfather, arrogance and a tendency to see and hear only what he wished. We spoke little but in what was said it was clear he had no understanding of anything other than his own desires,"  
He poured himself more wine.  
"But even had some survived, and I considered that most would have perished, how could they and the men of the lake hold the mountain? Such a beacon to evil and greed I could not allow so close to our borders."  
Sorrow drifted across his face and shone in his eyes.  
"But I did not consider an army of Orc to be likely to be at hand, and I went armed for a minor skirmish and for holding the mountain, not a battle on the open plain, or street fighting in Dale. Many died as a result. I swore I would never make my fathers mistake, and yet in the end the result was the same."

He looked across at his son, unshed tears softening the brilliance of his eyes,  
"I can never explain even to you the horror I felt when I saw those creatures emerge and knew that some part of the past would be played out again. That once again I would have to take my dead home. Had I marched straight to the mountain as I had first intended, not turned aside to enter Dale and succour the people of the lake, would it have been different, would fewer have died or more? I do not know and never can. I did what seemed best for all but that is scant comfort to those who had to bury the loved ones they should have lived beside for centuries to come."

A sense of surprise held Legolas silent, in all the days of his wandering he had never wondered what wounds his father had brought away from the battle, other than those his son had inflicted. Now the familiar sense of shame bloomed again and he stared down at his plate.  
"I would relieve you that burden if I could," he said very softly, "but you are right to say that I do not understand."  
He saw his father's look of horror and the hand reached out in a mix of protest and reassurance and hurried on.  
"I mean that as no criticism either of you or even myself. But it is the truth. That day in Dale I learned something I had never thought of before, that I am not a warrior as you are a warrior, or as your guard are, or as any of those who fought in the battles of the past can claim to be. I have defended our realm since I was old enough to so but I have never seen battle, nor death or responsibility on that scale. Our losses to the spiders have been very few for we can strike them from a distance. I am good with the bow and knife, fast and sure, and I can deal with most assailants hand to hand, but that was something I could never imagine. I cannot help but wonder if that is why I chose…"

His words tailed away as his father gripped his hand.  
"Do not think that! It is not true. You risked your life against the evil and that is all I or any other could ask of you. This is a different age and the battles have been no less important for being the smaller. There is no glory in battle Legolas, whatever the songs and stories may say. There is no honour in pointless death. I laid a sword upon Oakenshield's tomb, it will be the stuff of legend, but it will not console his sister for the loss of her brother and children. Only the knowledge of an evil defeated may do that. Battle is something we must do when it is thrust upon us, but never think yourself the less for having not been forced to war. If I could spare you what I have known then I would spend all the gold in that mountain and more."

Legolas met his father's eyes with a rueful smile.  
"But I may yet need to be such a warrior, for you do not think it is ended. I saw the armoury, the stockpiles you are storing up. It is clear that you believe that war is coming, but which war? With Sauron, with the easterlings or some other horror you have not mentioned?"

Thranduil sighed and rose from the table leaving his meal barely touched, he took his cup of wine and crossed once more to the fire and stared down into its yellow depths.  
"Yes I believe that war is coming, "his voice was low and soft."I have felt the world turn towards the darkness again even as the shadow of Dol Gulder retreats, and I do not believe that turn can be frustrated. As for whom? I have little doubt that Sauron will be the hub of it, and that this will be the last and defining battle with that black spirit, but I fear that it will draw in many other shadows from past hurts and bitterness too."  
He sighed then smiled.  
"We have a little time yet, a small space of peace in which to regroup and prepare. A window of light and pleasure before what I fear may be a time of great pain and darkness."

"But if Sauron does not find the ring." Legolas protested.  
His father nodded.  
"I know, in that case we may have a longer time of peace. Yet I do not think that will prove to be the case."  
"Why?"  
Thranduil looked up and his blue eyes were wide and lost in memory.  
"Because I have been close to the ring before; I have felt its presence and the way it twists the world, and I know that I have been close to it again far more recently. I am nearly sure that I have felt its calling within these halls and yet it makes no sense. But if what I fear is correct then it is no longer truly lost and it can only be a matter of time before Sauron, in his growing strength, senses its presence."

A surge of horror and foreboding spread though Legolas and he took a gulp of wine while he thought about that. Finally he drew a deep breath and asked.  
"When? When did you think you felt it?"  
Thranduil did not look at him and the far away light remained in his eyes.  
"When Thorin Oakenshield and his company was brought here, then again at Dale. Though it is possible that I was mistaken."

Legolas felt a sinking in his stomach, common enough when he recalled those events but this time added to by the fear that more damage might yet be caused by his action.  
"But you do not think you were mistaken. You think the dwarves had it, was it taken from them at Ravenhill?"  
'Please don't let that be case' he thought.  
"Or does Dain have it now?"

The shimmer of the king's pale gold hair betrayed the slight shake of his head.  
"No. None of Oakenshield's company had it, of that I am certain. But I am nearly sure that it was here."  
"Nearly?"  
"Were it not for the unlikleyness of it I would be sure."  
Legolas felt the tension leave him, the gap filled quickly by curiosity.  
"If not a dwarf then whom?"  
A slight smile drifted across Thranduil's face.  
"By good fortune I think that it has acquired a most unusual holder, for none can own the ring, one unlike those that it has known before and that it may not be able to easily seduce to its will, at least not yet. But in time… who can say?"

Legolas felt a wave of frustration run through him.  
"Why did you not take it from this ring carrier?"  
Thranduil's eyes seemed to glow with an even deeper blue as he turned towards him.  
"And do what with it? I have no desire to own it. I have seen how much a smaller evil could pollute our realm, would you have me bring a greater darkness upon it? Not even Mithrandir could hold that ring in safety, no elf who has seen its' power would want it near them."  
He turned away and looked out towards the forest again.  
"No, I let it pass beyond our lands unremarked. It may rest where it is in obscurity, at least while Sauron remains weak. But eventually no hiding place will be secure or remote enough to hide it and Sauron will realise where it must be. Then will war come."

"Does Lord Elrond agree with you on this?"  
Thranduil's eyes turned back to his son and focussed on him for the first time since they spoke of the ring.  
"We have not discussed it; such matters cannot be trusted to letters and there has been no reason for us to meet. Yet we must meet. Lord Celeborn and the Lady too. But we have a little time yet, we must contrive some reason that could attract no comment."  
Another thrill of fear washed through Legolas.  
"You think us watched then?"  
His father smiled.  
"I know we are. Orc do not harry our borders for no reason Legolas. The spiders wandered the forest with a purpose and Dol Guldor was not built for pleasure."  
"Why?"  
"The servants of the darkness watch their master's enemies, it has always been so, what else would you expect?"  
"Lord Elrond spoke of the dwarves distrust of you because of your ability to raise an army, is that why you think us watched?"  
Thranduil inclined his head.  
"Yes, in part, just as Lothlorien and Gondor will be watched and the lands of the Riders. If the evil gains strength and returns it will be from the old enemies that he expects the opposition to come."

"So you build a new army with new weapons." Legolas said softly.  
His father looked at him with pain in his eyes.  
"If war comes and we must do battle once more I will not sacrifice their lives lightly Legolas. I will not ask they surrender the immortality that is their birthright carelessly. If I must send them to fight I will not send them poorly armoured or lightly armed. I will not bring home an army so destroyed again. This time I will be prepared."


	5. Chapter 5 Conversations of the Wise

**Conversations of the Wise**

Elrond showed his visitor to a seat beside the fire at the far end of the chamber, at some distance from the harps and singers but close enough for the strains of the music to form a backdrop to their conversation. There were things he wished to discuss that he did not want to be overheard.

Winter was casting its spell upon Rivendell and though there was a great beauty in it there was also a freezing wind. The occupant of the other chair had travelled far against its bitter blast, yet he seemed unaffected by the shill despite the shabbiness of his robe and cloak.

They had eaten and spent some time with the wider company but both knew there were matters that concerned them alone and so they withdrew to the further ends of the chamber where they could talk privately.

"You have been to Lothlorien? How goes it there?" Elrond asked when the other was settled and provided with wine.  
"Well enough. The Lady is fully restored to herself and Lord Celeborn has doubled the watch on Dol Guldor."  
"You expect Sauron to return there then?"  
His visitor shook his head as he settled himself more firmly in the chair and reached into his robe for his pipe.  
"No, he will stay in the east now that he has been discovered, but there are others of his servants who might return in time."

Elrond gave the pipe a short look of resignation and moved his own chair slightly to increase the distance between them; the inhalation of smoke from a burning weed was habit of the children of men he had never been able to understand. Even less did he understand why his visitor had adopted it. As his companion coaxed the mess of dried weed within the bowl of the pipe to flame and then smoke, he concentrated on the muted strains of the harp in the room behind him.

Finally his companion was satisfied that the pipe was to his liking and spoke again  
"The news continues much as you already know. For the moment the fortress is silent and apparently deserted, and the evil that had flowed from it these last centuries has been stemmed and is fading. Greenwood is not yet itself again but matters are improving. Even so a close watch must be kept upon it, for it will not do for us to be caught unprepared again. I have visited both Celeborn and Thranduil and they are of the same mind, in future we must be prepared to think the worst and not the best where Sauron is concerned."  
He gave a small huff.  
"Thranduil always has of course and would have had us take action some time ago, as would I."

Elrond nodded.  
"As matters fell it would have been better had the Council followed your wishes rather than Saurman's, better too if they listened to Thranduil's arguments with more sympathy. To have dealt with Sauron when weaker would have cost the Lady less pain and we might have prevented his flight to the east. Yet what reason was there to do so, it seemed better to wait. "He frowned, "but in that opinion we were wrong and in our assessment we were deceived. That being the case I am still uneasy that we did not follow him immediately, again at Saurman's insistence. Perhaps I should not have listened to his assessment so readily and have been more forceful on the matter, but with the Lady in such distress….." His words tailed away as that unease he felt whenever he recalled that assault upon Dol Guldur stirred again. He waved a weary hand.  
"There must be regret too that the people of Mirkwood have borne so much the weight of his malign influence, when it might have been prevented had we listened more kindly to the protestations of their king. We must hope it does not prevent them from taking heed of us in the future."

He shifted slightly in his chair to better look at his companion.  
"I have sent letters to Thranduil with his son, but as yet I have received no answers. I confess that as time passes this causes me concern. They contained many things I would not have trusted to another messenger and my fear is that they have been lost, though I find it hard to believe that Prince Legolas would have been so careless, and wonder if there is some dread news that has not reached me. If that is not the case then the worry must be that my letters have been received and their content not viewed with any favour." He looked back to the firelight and his grey eyes were sad.  
"His people have good reason to doubt our intentions and there is much history between Thranduil's line and the Noldar that might yet cast long shadows. Such shadows as could lead us all into even greater peril. The matter of the Lonely Mountain may make things even more difficult."

The visitor said nothing but puffed harder on his pipe as if in deep thought and said nothing.

Elrond watched with some frustration as a fog of foul smelling smoke obscured the other's face and hid his expression. With a slight shake of his head he looked away and down into his wine as he continued.  
"With Smaug gone there needs to be accord in the lands between the Long Lake and the Grey Mountains, yet is this possible? Whilst he might have no difficulties in his dealing with the men of the lake or Dale Thranduil has no reason to love the dwarves, none who dwelt in Doriath could ever forget such injuries, or set them aside completely. This business with the king under the mountain might well have rubbed at old wounds.  
His companion by the fire still remained silent and fog shrouded so he tried a different approach  
"I have received some reports on the matter at Dale, but there is always room for misunderstanding in such tales. They suggest that the dwarf Thorin dealt meanly with the men of the Lake, knowing that not all he claimed was his to own, and that Thranduil took their side. It is true that Dain seems to have dealt fairly with the Lake men however, and recognised that some portion of the treasure of Smaug was drawn from others than the line of Durin and should be returned. This should ease the tensions between the dwarves and the men of the lake but the reports tell of taunts by Dain of the Elvenking which may make for strained relationships. Yet we need all the friends we can muster, and old grievances must be set aside if we are to prosper." His voice became sad. "I see a darkness advancing that cannot be stemmed, Grief awaits us all I fear."

The wizard on the other side of the fire at last lowered his pipe, allowing the fog of smoke around him to thin. The deceptive face of an old man emerged from the haze, only the fire in the eyes betraying the lie of the skin's appearance. His voice was low and firm but laced with a musing note.  
"Indeed they must I have said as much to all involved, for I fear that you may be right and that the grief of this age may yet equal that of the past. Yet I do not think all is lost, I still hope that the worst of outcomes may be avoided."  
Elrond turned his eyes back to his companion.  
"I hope that you may be proved right in that, but I see dark days ahead. Darker still if the trust between the enemies of Sauron proves frail."  
The pipe smoker shook his head.  
"Do not fear that, at least not on Thranduil's account my Lord, nor worry about your letters reception. He is a good and wise king, and as such each of his elves lost is a grief to him, that pain will not fade quickly and he may wish to lick his wounds for a while. But he is long an enemy of the darkness and a warrior of some renown, as you know, and he will be stalwart and stand friend to any who seek to destroy Sauron whatever earlier crimes they may have committed against him."

Elrond gave a small smile.  
"I hope so; from all I have heard of him this Thorin was neither the most gracious nor the most reasonable of dwarves. I recall his grandfather and though I had few dealings with him none of the experiences were easy. Even his own kin gave him a wide berth and were reluctant to give aid, or to take his people in, when the dragon stole the mountain."  
His companion nodded.  
"That was so, which was why I was surprised to see the Lord of the Iron Hills come to Thorin's aid so swiftly. Though they were both of different generations of course, and" his tone became dry and sharp, "the lure of gold has powerfully soothing qualities in such family squabbles."  
Elrond nodded and a wry expression crossed his face.  
"Indeed it can. Just as it can divide. In this case it was well for all that he came so what was it that that brought Oakenshield to claim the mountain at this particular time?"  
The wizard looked slightly uncomfortable.  
"That was my doing, and I had reasons for doing so that I cannot discuss at this time. But I did not know of the second army of orc and for that I own my fault. Nor did I foresee that Thorin would wake the dragon and send it to attack the men of the lake again. As for Thranduil, I had warned them to keep to the path through Mirkwood, and had they done so the elves would have ignored them. But they ignored my warning and with Thorin dead there is no way of knowing why."

Elrond sighed.  
"If Thorin and his company left the road and wandered into Thranduil's realm at such a time and refused to give fair account of his reasons then I would expect his welcome to be cold. No Lord, elf, man, or dwarf, with a realm to defend could be expected to be any thing but suspicious in such circumstances. Yet from the reports it seems that the dwarf held a grievance at his treatment and that he shot arrows at Thranduil when he took the up the Lakemen's cause. Dain was no more polite to him it would seem."  
The wizard puffed on his pipe for a moment then nodded.  
"Yes, I confess I wpuld not have expected a dwarf lord such as Dain to forget his manners to quite to the degree that he did. It is true to say that Thranduil had good reason for his anger and I would not have blamed had he responded with less restraint than was the case."

Elrond was silent for a moment as he stared into his glass with narrowed eyes, looking back over certain memories of the past.  
"Thranduil was never a fool and he is a Sindar of a long and noble line, he would have been schooled to manage his anger early in his life, In the course of which life he has seen most forms of foolishness and evil and he will have learned to tell one from the other. I would expect that it would take much to push him into a rash act."  
His companion nodded.  
"It is true that the fight between dwarf and elf was all of Dain's making, but once the Orc emerged all of that was forgotten and elf and dwarf fought together on the Plain, though it is true that there is a new cause of dissention between the two that must now be overcome." A sad looked passed across the deceptive old man face. "More were lost than I had hoped might be the case."  
He puffed on his pipe for a momentlomger then shot Elrond a serious look.  
"But that is as might be and much of the army of the dark was also destroyed, which may yet prove to be a great advantage, As for your letters my lord, have no fear, no harm has befallen them I expect as the kings son may not yet have returned to Mirkwood, though my informants tell me they saw him on a course for the forest road and so his return will not be much longer delayed. By my reckoning Thranduil has not yet received the package entrusted to Legolas."

Elrond sat back and frowned at his companion in some surprise, and a note of deep concern entered his voice.  
"Yet the year has changed more than once since he was here. How can he have not returned? Are the stories true then? I had hoped not."  
The wizard looked over the top of his pipe with narrowed eyes.  
"Which stories are these, my Lord?"  
"That the son drew sword upon his father and king and issued threats."  
The shrewd eyes in the old face narrowed and a look of concern flared within them  
"Where did you hear that, from your informers?"  
"Not as such. There was a journeyman travelling west, a man of Bree but who had been working in Dale at the time of the dragon's death. He fell from his horse during a spring storm and was carried to a lonely inn in the shadow of the mountains with some injury. We were asked for help and sent a healer to treat him, but in his fever he fought the healer saying that he would have no strange elf near him, that he had no trust in elves when their kings could not trust their own blood. When pressed he spoke of elf attacking elf at the battle of Erebor, that the attacked was the Elvenking and one of his attackers his son. He had not seen it himself but had been told the story by a man who had fought alongside the elves in the streets of Dale."  
Elrond gave the wizard a hard look.  
"The healer reported to me alone and this talk has travelled no further within Rivendell, but for the wider world I cannot speak. I find it hard to believe that kin slaying has emerged in Mirkwood, and involving the king himself, and yet I do not think the man lied as such and that whatever happened he believed his version to be true."

He leaned back and stared towards the rafters thinking back over the prince of Mirkwoods visit and when he spoke again his voice was low and sad.  
"When Thranduil's son was here it was clear that something was much amiss, that he laboured under some great grief and horror. There was a deep shadow that wrapped him, not of evil, but of fear and pain, and though he might some times forget his trouble in a song or a sight of beauty, it was always there hovering, waiting to envelope him again. I thought related it their long fight against the creeping evil of Dol Guldor for he had mentioned a desire to visit that place. Kin slaying or revolt never occurred to me but there was something there in him that might become a sickness which as yet was simply a grievous loss. I would have helped if I could, however slight the relief offered, but he was careful to avoid any opening that might give a listener cause to ask. The only time he betrayed himself was when I asked about the nature of the battle and the numbers lost. It was clear that he did not know, and that the realisation was a part of his pain, from which I read that he had not taken part in the battle himself and that he had left Dale during the fighting or very soon afterwards."

The wizard sighed.  
"Well it was too much to hope that none had seen it, but I wish it had been witnessed by elvish eyes alone."  
Shock and sorrow showed in Elrond's look and voice.  
"It is true then?"  
"Yes, and then again no. Whether it would have gone as far as elf killing elf I cannot be sure, for one of the parties involved is little known to me, but of Thranduil himself I have no doubts. Even with greatest of provocations he would not kill one of his own illegally. Nor were there threats of any substance, at least not made by the king's son. But it is true to say an unfortunate…. incident… occurred, a misunderstanding more than anything else."  
"Yet the journey man spoke of arrows aimed at the king and swords drawn. Is that not the case?"  
The question brought a sigh and a weary shrug from the visitor.  
"Well it is true that one did issue threat and insult to Thranduil, and did aim an arrow at him. But he disarmed the assailant quickly enough and no harm came of it. It is also true that he held the offender at sword point for a time, though if he hadn't then his guard would have been forced to action, with elf blood being spilled by elf. An ugly incident I grant you, and the more so for the time and place of it, but no more than that."  
"And Legolas? What was his action in this? Do not think I seek to pry for curiosity's sake, but I would not err in my dealings with the father by ignorance of the actions of the son."

His companion pulled on his pipe again, the resulting smoke once more obscuring his expression.  
"It was in defence of that one assailant that Legolas made some unwise remark. I would not have any make too much of it, as you know feelings run high in battles and things get done and said that would never happen in less tempestuous times."  
Elrond nodded.  
"Yes the fire of battle takes time to die from the blood, but if the man's words were to be believed this was not the case here."  
His companion continued to draw on his pipe and was silent for a moment.  
"Perhaps not," he said when he was satisfied with the enveloping cloud of smoke. "The detail of the story is not mine to tell my Lord and as I say I would not see it given an importance it does not warrant, though I know that the events of that day hurt Legolas deeply. As you deduced Legolas felt both grief and shame for his actions, and for the cause of them, and he asked his father's leave not to return to Mirkwood immediately after the battle. This was granted, but for his sake and not by the kings desire."

As Elrond watched him the look in the wizard's eyes slipped past the fire and towards the window where the snowflakes gathered in ever greater numbers. It was clear that his mind had passed beyond this room to another time and place.

In that assumption Elrond was correct for as he watched the snow drift against the background of winters' darkness the wizard was back in Mirkwood in summer, sitting beneath the trees with the Elvenking in whose face and light he could read only sorrow and anguish for his son. Thranduil had the pride and reserve of his race and line, and dignity had been his lot for centuries, but at that moment there had been no king there only a father who feared deeply for his son's wellbeing.

"I have had no word or sighting of him since he left the lands of the Dunedain. Find him Mithrandir, none are better suited to do so than you. Find him and give him what comfort you may and set him on the path home if you can but manage it."  
The king had risen to his feet and paced the glade as if he could not bear to be still. The flowers of summer were draped upon his crown as was the custom at this time of year and yet there was no ease or joy in the wearer. The observer of his pacing felt a surge of fear and not only for the missing son. Thranduil's face was as calm and impassive as ever but there was great tension in his movements, as if a bow string was being overstretched, and there was a hoarse note in the deep and melodious voice that spoke of an effort to keep his tone even. Of greater concern perhaps was his dress, for the kings robes would usually be pale at this stage of the sun, the shades of flowers and new leaves, but that day he had worn the greys and silvers of winter as if he could not let go of the season in which he had last seen his son.

A deep unease had stirred in the wizard's mind and he wondered what further damage might yet be done by the events of that day in Dale, and how far its shadow might still stretch. The Woodland Realm needed to be strong if the lands of the east were to be held should Sauron make a bid for Middle earth again, and for that they needed their king to be sure and steady; but what would happen if Legolas did not return, or sought the sea? What would his father do then? As he watched the pacing figure he set himself the task of finding a way through this coil that he had helped to wind.  
"I understood why he felt the need to leave." Thranduil had continued, "but with each moon that passes I feel the weight upon his spirits grow heavier and my fears for where it leads increase. I had hoped that when he did not find Strider he would return to tell me so, but he has not. Yet I know from the Dunedain that he has been and sought out the Ranger I bid him find."

"And if I find him? Would you have me send him home?"  
Thranduil had smiled sadly, his blue eyes misted with the memory of that last parting.  
"No," he said softly, "not if he wills it otherwise. I would have spared him this if I could but I did not see the danger soon enough and the matter went too far to be stopped and far sooner than I expected. Yet I did not think it would go so far and for that I must take the blame. He must take the time he needs, I would not have him feel that he is a scolded elfling who must return to take a punishment, or ask for contrition when he exacts so much worse from himself. Nor would I have him feel that I do no trust in his ability to find his way back to himself."

"Then what do you ask of me my friend?"  
"Only that you find him and give him what strength and comfort that you can. He grieves as well as hurts and he must find his own way through the tangle that was of neither of our making. But if you find him I ask that you bring me news of him, good or bad so that I can plan for his homecoming."

As Elrond watched the wizard seemed to push whatever memory had distracted him aside and when he spoke there was certainty in his voice.  
"I can tell you with every confidence that Thranduil bears no grievance against his son and would have him back home as soon as it can be arranged."

Elrond looked back with continued curiosity debating with himself what that memory might have been. It was not that hard to guess at.  
"When he was here the prince spoke of a quest set him by his father, one that had come to naught. Yet he said no more of it. That seemed strange at the time but I did not press him for, as I have said, it was clear to me that he laboured under some great burden, and I considered that the two might be related."  
The wizard nodded.  
"Perhaps they were, for there was more to the situation than simply a conflict with his father. The task set for Legolas was always hopeless, it was something conjoured solely to distract the prince and to send him to travel amongst those his father trusted."  
Surprise dawned in Elrond's eyes.  
"I see, Thranduil considered the possible outcome of his son's grief such that he feared dire consequences if he took no action! The wounds must go deep then, and I can think of only one possible cause that fits the story and your words. If that is the case then my sympathy lies with the father as well as the son. I fear such turmoil for any of my children."  
"Yes, any fond parent would, and I fear Legolas has more disillusion on the matter to come to terms with in the process of his healing. Yet the nature of such things is that the worst will now be behind him and it seems he has turned for home. Though I doubt that all his troubles are yet at an end and his home coming will not be one of unalloyed joy."

Elrond drew a deep breath.  
"No if I read your words rightly there may be those who are less willing to welcome him back than his father. For Thranduil this road will need to be carefully walked if the unity and strength of his Realm is to be maintained."  
The wizard nodded.  
"Indeed it must, by both of them if Legolas would resume his natural position, and that he must do. What is done cannot be undone, nor its consequences be lightly set aside. Yet Thranduil is wise and knows his people well, he will find a way."

"For all our sakes we must hope that he does; and for the son?"  
"No less hard, but if the future we spoke of comes to pass then the lessons he learns now may be vital. As you say, discord amongst the enemies of Sauron is something we must not allow and any who might be players in opposing him must be able to master their hearts when required and so hold on to their heads. Sauron was ever good at exploiting his opponent's loves and hatreds."  
The elf lord nodded.  
"That is so. Elf, men and dwarf will need to stand together again if Sauron regains his strength. Let us hope that the Elvenking can keep his Realm united for if he cannot then I fear that the lands both north and east may face great peril."

He paused a moment as if unsure whether to explore the matter any further but finally he ventured anther question.  
"The other party you mentioned. What of that matter? Has that been resolved? I would have expected to have knowledge of it if a call of treason amongst the woodland elves had been heard and I have not, yet treason it must be."  
The wizard sighed.  
"No, it is not resolved, quite the opposite. As for the charge, well the elf concerned had already been banished."  
Elrond looked shocked.  
"It must have been a serious offence for the king to resort to such a punishment in such times."  
The other just sighed and shrugged and for a moment a great weariness seemed to hang upon him causing his host to wonder what part the wizard might have played in the drama.

Elrond watched him closely. Intriguing but none of his concern, yet if there were continuing tensions in Mirkwood it might become his concern.  
"What choices does he have?" he asked eventually. "No realm is likely to give succour to one who drew an arrow on their king so what does Thranduil propose to do?"  
That brought another sigh and a shake of his visitor's head.  
"I cannot say, but you are right that his options are few and he does not wish to take any course that might make matters harder for his son on his return."  
"I can understand that would be the case, it would be my concern too, were my kin to be involved in such a situation. Yet if it leaves a sore to fester then better the pain now than later."

"Perhaps." His companion responded quietly and it was clear he intended to say nothing more on the matter.

Elrond was silent for a while considering what he knew, not much but enough for one who had lived as long as he had to guess the likely sum of it. Not hard to guess the other party either, he had sometimes thought the king of the wood unwise in his actions there, even though he understood the reasons for them. Perhaps he might find a way to assist in this current dilemma. An elf that threatened Kin slaying and treason could never be brought to Rivendell but he was in contact with other elf colonies that were much smaller and more remote and who might be able to help. After all the people of Mirkwood had been under great pressure since the Sauron returned to Dol Guldor, something might be made of that. He would give it some thought.

The silence stretched and then cast his companion a sideways look.  
"What of the halfling, the hobbit, Bilbo I recall his name as being, did he make his way back to the Shire in safety?"  
The wizard laughed.  
"Indeed he did with many a wondrous story to tell beside his fireside, not least amongst them presenting a necklace given to him by Bard to the Elvenking. Ha, I have never seen Thranduil so lost for words! But he was always kind to Bilbo, valuing his courage and honesty, and he took it most graciously when it was explained that it was in return for his hospitality, both granted and taken."  
A thoughtful look flitted across his face and he continued slowly.  
"Thranduil always treated Bilbo with respect and yet there was wariness too as if…." The words died away as something flared deep within the wizard's eyes, "but no matter. Bilbo is home in his comfortable hole, safe and sound.  
"Yet I shall be seeing him again I think, when the world darkens again." Elrond said softly.

The wizard said nothing but concentrated on creating another cloud of smoke, yet it could not hide the thoughtful look within his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6 Warm words and harsh truths

Warm words and harsh truths

The forest night beyond the Elven kings hall had darkened further and the haze of snow was now a heavy curtain that obscured the trees even from elvish sight. Within those halls the world was far warmer despite the lofty chambers and soaring passageways, and in the Kings private rooms a sense of quiet comfort prevailed. The fire had been fed and the flames burned high and golden in the hearth, Galion had lit the braziers in the corners of the room and their light flickered upon the carved pillars and shimmered on the waterfall and pool that occupied one part of the king's quarters. The scent of wood and aromatic oils lie gently on the air and the sound of gently falling water overlaid any silence. The carved wooden chairs set either side of the fire were lined with deep cushions and the construction of the balcony ensured that no draught found its way into the large chamber. A low table had been placed before the fire and the butler had set upon it a tray of nuts and another of winter tartlets as well as wine.

It had been a while since Legolas had known such comforts and he was determined to enjoy them to the full, yet even as he helped himself to a handful of nuts the dark imp stirred within its binding and shouted at him 'No right, you have no right'.In his frustration he cracked the nut's shell more vigorously than he intended and sent a shower of shards across the floor. His father looked at him with some surprise and he muttered an apology averting his eyes so that the self anger there should not be seen. Yet some of the ease that had crept into Thranduil's bearing as they had eaten, talked of people they knew, or sat in companionable silence, seeped away and Legolas groaned silently, for it seemed that he had betrayed his turmoil once again.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, or the uncertainty, Legolas resigned himself to the pain that was to come and set about discovering more detail of the events since last he had sat within this room.

They started easily enough as the talk returned to Thranduil's plans for securing Mirkwood, of the forging methods mentioned in the practice halls, and of the changes being made to the design of bow and shield and lance. Legolas had been surprised by the amount of mithril being bought or made and worked for armour, yet more surprised that some of the metal and skills were being purchased from the dwarves.

An expression that he could not decipher passed over his father's face at the mention of Dain, the new king under the mountain, for it contained some conflict and indecision, things rarely seen in Thranduil's look; and yet more than that. But whatever the cause of it was there seemed to be no immediate threat to peace. For Legolas any talk of dwarves was fraught with difficulty and his father must have known it, yet his voice remained as calm and easy as when they had spoken of swords and bow. Emboldened he asked a little more about the progress of Dale and the people there and his father replied readily enough. Trade was good, more craftsmen were coming from the west now that the dragon had gone and more land was being brought under the plough. Prosperity was growing for most and nearly all if the things destroyed by the dragon fire were now renewed. Bard had certainly prospered and the new master held him in high regard. Legolas smiled to himself for it was clear that there was respect and some friendship between the Elven king and the man of the Lake and the master was probably keenly aware of that. The relationship between the people of the lake and Thranduil's realm seemed to be even stronger than before the death of the dragon.

As for the dwarves now settling in the mountain, his father said little but his few remarks implied that the the relationship between the two communities remained strained; but it was clear that they rarely met for the men of Dale were happy to act as intermediaries between them. Whatever the meaning of that earlier fleeting look it was clear that there was a formal civility between the two kings, if little liking. But, as they talked of trade and diplomatic necessities, Legolas realised that there was something more than just personal dislike of Dain in play in the relationship; though his father carefully avoided any comment on the matter. Thranduil was adamant that the dwarves would play no part in the planned extensions to his Halls. Distrust clearly remained and enough that his was willing to suffer delay to the new building rather than draw upon dwarf labour.

Regarding the extensions to his halls the Elven king made no secret of the reason, he was determined that more of his people could be sheltered within stone should it prove necessary. His Halls had always been a fortress against their enemies but now it was to be larger and stronger, harder to attack and easier to defend. His son wondered if it were more dragons that his father feared, none had been seen this side of the grey mountains since the defeat of Sauron but with Smaug gone it was possible that one might be tempted, assuming one remained. Legolas wondered what if his father knew the possibility but could not bring himself to ask.

The longer they spoke the more Legolas wondered at his father's certainty of war and about where that certainly came from. It appeared that some scouting parties were now sent south of the Mirkwood mountains, though not far into the southern part of the forest as yet. Certainly none of their people had ventured far enough to set eyes upon the fortress.

"I looked upon Dol Guldor when I was on the road and thought to go there." The words escaped him before he thought of it.  
Thranduil looked both horrified and grieved at the same time.  
"Why?" he asked softly, "Why would you wish to go there?" There was a shadow of fear in his voice.  
Legolas hesitated wanting to confess his hopelessness and desperation of the time, then, remembering his vow not to cause unnecessary pain, he drew a deep breath and shrugged as carelessly as he could.  
"Now, sitting here, I am not sure. Only that I looked upon it, the source of such evil and wondered if that evil had truly gone."  
He smiled at his father.  
"But caution held me back and I went no closer. It seemed deserted and yet at the same time as if the shroud of the old evil still swathed it, even though all the talk was that the power and source of that evil had departed "

The king made no attempt to hide his relief.  
"I am thankful that it did! I have issued orders that our scouts must not enter that place, however quiet it may appear to be. You too must obey that prohibition once you resume your duties. It is the will of the Council, so Elrond reports, and I agree with the prohibition. Like Elrond and Celeborn I have no doubt that the entry of any into the sphere of the dark spells that bind it would bring his servants hurrying back to fell the intruder, and with dire consequences for many. Do not underestimate the spite of the dark spirits Legolas, Sauron will expend a little power, delay his return a measure, if that power can be used to inflict sufficient pain upon his enemies."

Legolas nodded and leaned forward to take a tartlet, hiding his face from his father's sight so that those clear eyes might not discern the sudden surge of self anger that threatened to once again awaken the dark imp of his despair. What would have been the outcome had they struck at the fortress whilst the spiders still menaced them, as …she…. had often wanted to do? If the little he had heard of the White Councils' cleansing of the place were true it had taken much of the power of the Lady of Lothlorien to repel the evil, too much for Elrond to follow him east immediately. Sitting here beside the fire with the danger passed for the moment the thought of what they might have unleashed upon their people by such an assault sent chills into his blood. It also caused a surge of bitterness for he had considered doing as she wished, yet another sign of his failed judgement

But as the talk continued it became clear it might it still come to such an assault, for his father spoke of the departure of the evil as but a temporary state, and with a certainty that caused his son unease. That his father had some power which had enabled him to hold the woods closest to his halls free of the creeping evil of the darkest days he had always known, but as far Legolas knew he did not possess the second sight of Elrond, though his sire was never forthcoming on the nature or extent of his power. But as he watched his father's face in the firelight he recalled the stories Lord Elrond had told of past days and deeds. His father would have known elves whose line stretched back to the elder days, perhaps even to the days before the first rising of the sun; indeed his own Sindar line extended back to the journey west. Here in Mirkwood is was easy to forget it but many of the elves who had lived in the first and second ages possessed some sense and power that men called magic; though none of them had the power of the Lady of the Wood. Was it something of that kind that made his father so certain?

Legolas pushed the thought of the future aside, tonight he must concentrate on dealing with the past, only when that was done could he venture to consider tomorrow. He realised with a start that his thoughts had been wandering and that his father was looking at him with concern. Guilt tore at him again, hadn't he caused enough pain? He had vowed he would do what was needed and do it cheerfully and without complaint if he could, and the concern and sorrow in his father's eyes was more painful to him than any spoken rebuke. He must guard his feelings better than this if he was to honour that pledge to himself.

"Forgive me if it seems my wits were wandering." He said with a slight smile. "I confess the food and fire has taken its toll after the long days on the forest road. I am still a little surprised to find myself safely home and out of the saddle."  
Thranduil smiled and the sorrow melted from his look.  
"But home you are my son; and I am most glad that this is the case. It gives me more joy than you know to see you here again. Take a day or two to rest and then you must make upon a record of all that you have heard upon the road. I would have it that all who need to know of events in the wider world may hear your discoveries as soon as possible. All too often our information is from official sources," he leaned forward and took a tartlet tilting his head and smiling at Legolas as he did so, "and therefore carefully composed by the sender. To know what is truly being said abroad would be of great value."

Legolas gave a rueful smile remembering the days and nights sat wrapped in misery in some remote village, barely aware that others were around him. But he would not lay that burden upon his father too, so he strove to keep his voice light and easy as he replied.  
"I am not sure that anything I have to report will be of use, but it shall be as you wish."  
"Good and do not think anything too trivial to be of importance. Often gossip is as good a source of information as any official report." His smile took on a sly edge. "I make a point of listening to as much of it as others allow my way, which is sometimes more than they think they allow."

Thranduil paused and consumed his tart before continuing, a slightly different note creeping into his voice as he did so.  
"Did you meet no one that you knew upon the road?"  
Legolas reached forward and took another one for himself; shaking his head slightly.  
"No. It is as I told you. Oh, wait, but for one, I had forgotten. Strange as it seemed I met Mithrandir, in an inn upon a desolate moor. He gave me no reason as for why he should be there. We spoke a little," hesitancy entered his voice as he recalled the nature of that conversation, " but on nothing of great note, and then without warning he disappeared. Why he was there or where he went to I could not say."  
Thranduil gave another small smile.  
"It is his way; he arrives as suddenly a summer storm and leaves as abruptly as a spring shower."

Legolas drew a deep breath and waded into the shallows of the deep waters he knew they must cross before daybreak.  
"Has you anger with him died?"  
He heard his father sigh and when he answered there was an odd hesitancy in his voice.  
"Anger? Not anger Legolas. Resignation, yes, and some bitterness too, for there is no doubt of his hand in Thorins's quest and therefore all the evils that followed upon it Yet he seemed unconcerned."  
He smiled slightly and waved his hand in elegant dismissal of blame  
"Not that evils lie within him but it sometimes seems to ride upon his cloak, or perhaps it is that he follows in its wake and yet we see him before we see it."  
Legolas stared at his father surprised to see that wide and far away look in his blue eyes again as he continued.  
"It can be hard to separate the cause and the effect, the leader and the follower, when matters of good and evil are concerned. We must always be watchful of seeing the one in the other. Too often have I seen the head of a fair thread drawn only for it to prove dark and twisted when fully unravelled; I have learned not to decide quickly upon the virtue of the full length of a thread from its head. It may be that Mirthrandir appears only when he will be needed."

The look faded and Thranduil gave his son a searching look.  
"However I imagine that he would have declared his business had it been of importance. Perhaps he was on his way to the Shire; I hear he is fond of joining in their celebrations. But I have no doubt that his hand was in the business of Thorin and his company and as yet I still have no answer for it. Such explanation as he gave made no sense unless he has lost all bearings in the world."

"Perhaps he was travelling to the Shire, though it seemed to me there was some other reason for him to be there."  
He pushed the memory of that night away and drew a deep breath for he knew they were approaching those matters that could not be avoided but that were riven with pain for them both.  
"Very well I will make my report. But none here will think it the reason for my absence." He said softly. "Nor should they. Forgive me if I cause you yet more pain but there are things that we must speak of, if only tonight. I would have it done as quickly as I can."  
His father inclined his head and his voice was low and soft.  
"I know. Let us deal with them now and hopefully never recall them again."

That wish brought a twisted smile to Legolas's face, these things had lived with his all of his time upon the road and he doubted this night would be the last of them.  
"I would wish that could be the case but I doubt it can be. It is clear enough to me what many think about the matter, about why I was there and yet not. Why I went to defend a dwarf warrior when all about me my own were fighting for their lives."  
He looked towards the fire, the sight of the flames melting into a red river as memory bit hard upon him.  
"If I could say that I turned aside once to help an elf on the point of defeat and death then perhaps I could defend my action, but I cannot, for I did not. I made myself blind to their fate to serve another purpose that was my own alone Yet for what? Mithrandir could have sent any to warn the dwarf if he thought it to be important, and no company, however valiant, could have held that crag when the army from Gundebad arrived. I had seen their numbers and knew that better than any."  
The red river was joined by a red mist and he drew a heavy breath.  
"Why then did I go, that is what they will ask? The same question I have asked myself time and time again and as yet I have no answer they could accept. A handful of dwarves had more chance of escaping from Ravenhill than a company of elf in armour. They would most certainly have been slaughtered."

Legolas bowed his head as realised how he had echoed her words, for did they not betray that she had known the certain fate of those she asked to be dispatched? Yet in her wild and ungoverned panic she had not flinched from her demand. What would she have done if his father had not disarmed her, would she have truly shot him? He could not believe that she would have brought such shame to their people, but if not then what had she accosted him for, why set the arrow in the first place? His throat and chest tightened as he remembered her look, her bitter words hurled at the king who had protected her most of her life and her shock when he had so easily disarmed her. Her silence when he had challenged her. What had brought her to that reckless point and why had he followed her so easily? How many times had he had this argument with himself without finding an answer that he could be content with? A hundred? A thousand? As many as the nights he had stared up at the stars and wished that memory would die and leave him in forgetful peace. There was no point in wallowing in it again, though he would dearly like to know what his father believed of the matter. But not now when more pressing things remained to be decided.

With a sigh he raised his head again and turned back to face his father, finding a look of sorrowing understanding in his face.  
"You know why you went Legolas, as do I. There is no dishonour in it, though perhaps it was not wise."  
"Is there no dishonour? At a time of war when all around me was battle and blood, when my friends were falling and we were threatened with an even greater dread, I turned away to answer the selfish prompting of my heart. A fisher man of Dale might do such a thing and be forgiven but princes of a royal line cannot if they are to hold their people's respect, I do not think that you would have made such a choice, however great your wish to do so."  
Thranduil sighed.  
"I would not claim that for I do not know, fate has never presented me with such a choice. But I have walked the world long enough to know that on such things there is never certainty, even about ones self. That is something you too must learn to accept."  
Legolas smiled a bitter smile,.  
"Yet you laid it out clearly enough did you not? The dwarves would die at some point for that is their fate; if they chose to do it then and in service of something they valued then why should they not?"

Thranduil shook his head slightly.  
"I did not mean that as such. It was said, and in some anger I will admit, as a reminder of duty and perspective, to recall her to her to herself and her responsibility, and give her a chance to step back from the course she seemed set to follow. To send those whose birthright is immortality to certain is death is not something that should be done without good cause, yet was the cause good? I considered not, for there were others to warn them if it were necessary, if indeed it could be done. Nor did I consider such a warning was necessary, for there seemed no chance to hold Ravenhill and it was high enough that the dwarves would see the approaching army in time to make an escape or hide themselves. Nor could I see any reason to assume the coming hoard would make any immediate assault upon it for it would seem to be deserted. Far more likely they would seek to destroy those still fighting upon the plain and within the city, those for whom she showed little concern. To retreat and find a better and easier place to defend seemed the only sensible choice for all concerned. The coming of Eagles I did not expect."

Legolas sighed..  
"Yet I did not think of that, all of my training and past should have led me down the same path and yet I had only one concern and in pursuit of it I threatened and slandered you. Before the sight of others too and there is no way that I can ever atone for that. Why should any trust to my judgement having seen it?"  
He looked at his father with shame and sorrow in his eyes, raising his hand in protest as he made to reply.  
"No, let me say what I must say for if I stop I am not sure that I can can begin again and I can go no longer without saying it and find any peace."  
The regret was clear in the the other's face but only response was an inclination of the golden head. Legolas drew a deep breath and looked back towards the fire.  
"It did not take me long to see the events in that encounter differently and I know you would not have hurt her however angry you were. I told her when I first asked her to return that you would forgive her and reminded her how long you had cared for her and protected her, I had no doubt that you would allow her to retain home and her place. Yet I was quick to forget that when it mattered. I reacted to her pain and anger and in doing so I said unthinkable and unforgivable things and placed upon you an impossible choice."  
He bowed his head.  
"I would beg your pardon both as my father and my king from the bottom of my heart and soul. I will not compound my crime by asking that you absolve me of the consequences. If the law and our people demand that I stand before the lawgivers and answer for them at trial then I am willing to do so."

He raised his eyes to his father's again, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.  
"When I walked the to the practice halls many I passed would not look at me, their eyes drifted anywhere, set upon anything, but look at me."  
He looked down at his clasped hands the flesh showing white with the tension of his grip.  
"They are my kin, were my friends, elves who have risked their lives with me and for me, as I have done for them, and they would not look at me. It can only be because they did not want me to see what was in their eyes. They would not wish you to know that they looked upon your son with hatred and contempt."

Thranduil was silent for a moment looking at his son's clasped hands and the defeated slump of his shoulders. In all his centuries as king of Mirkwood, in all of the diplomatic wrangling that formed a large part of his role and daily work, never had his words mattered more than they would do now. A wrong step and his son might still be lost for ever, he had come home but clearly not because he had made peace with himself. But the king had always known this would not be easy just as the father wished that it could be. More than anything he wanted to reach out to this son of his and rock the fears away, but the time when he could that was long past and other, more difficult, ways needed to be found. Now he could only rely on words, and they would need to be the right ones.

The king rose and crossed to the balcony, leaning against a pillar staring out into the snowy night. He hoped it would make it easier for Legolas if he was not watched at this moment, and that it might be easier to say what must be said as quickly as possible.  
"Neither hatred or contempt Legolas, nor did they hide their feeling, if they did, for care of me. I will not lie to you, for you are not a child or a coward and you deserve the truth. I know that you are strong enough to bear it, hard though it may seem at this moment."  
He paused a moment picking the next words particularly carefully.  
"There are a few who know the full truth of what happened that day and with them you have much trust to rebuild, I will not deceive you on that. There are others who know some part of it, and with them you may find a little distance and uncertainty for a while for there are things that you have done that they do not understand. But for the wider woodland realm there is much speculation but little knowledge"

Legolas sighed and Thranduil turned and looked at him again. The defeat was still there but at least he was listening; there was still hope then.  
"As I said I will not lie to you, there are many who find some fault in your conduct of that day, for varying reasons, but few for whom it is a serious matter of principle or respect."  
He paused to let his son take in his words before continuing; he had known that this moment would come and had given much thought to the words that he would use.  
"Not all see your actions of that day in the light you saw them at the time. Perhaps that is my fault, it might have been better if I had not given you the leave to go, but that cannot be changed now and must be managed. .There are stories circulating I will admit it, but none speak of you as coward or traitor. Many know you came late to Dale having been scouting at Gunderbad and there is no shame in that. But you are right to think that there is an issue concerning your going to Ravenhill. Some believe you went to Ravenhill to kill Borg and with that they have no issue, but there were others who saw you set off and suspect that is not the full truth. It is with them that the source of the rumours lie, but most will see your deeds as nothing more than thoughtless or misguided."

Legolas shook his head without looking up.  
"Pethaps that may true for some, for many even, but what of those who stood with you at Dale, will they not seek to bring me to judgement?"  
Thranduil turned his back on the snow wrapped forest and came to stand behind his son, laying a gentle hand upon the bowed head.  
"No one will ask that of you for there is no need. Why should there be when you did not threaten me?"  
He paused for a moment as if in thought before continuing.  
"I have said I will not lie to you, nor will I. The truth of it is your right. Know this then, very great as my love for you is, had you held your sword differently, had you engaged my blade rather than pressed it down, then there would have been little I could have done to help you without tearing the Realm apart. But that weakness is not in you and even in your anger you were wise enough to avoid such confrontation, some part of you remained the prince of our people and that contained your actions. Be proud of that for I am sure that in that moment you wished to cause more hurt than you did."

His hand dropped to his son's shoulder.  
"As for your words to me? Well, they could be construed in many ways and my guard were sufficiently distanced that none can be sure of what they heard if I describe it otherwise. It is true that those words might be seen as a challenge to combat, which would be treason at best, or it might be seen as warning that if she died you would seek to follow her by other means. That your grief would be your death and that I should be aware of it; I believed then, as I do now, that the latter was your meaning and, therefore, so too will they."

Legolas raised a hand to grip his father's.  
"Or they will for your sake. I do not think I deserve such forbearance."  
"No I know that you do not, at the moment you seek anger and punishment from others in the hope that it will silence the critics within yourself. But however much hurt is inflicted from outside of you it will not resolve the conflict within. Only you can do that, you must accept what has gone before and learn what you can from it. The time may yet come when that learning will be all that stands between you and destruction."  
The king's grip upon his son's shoulder tightened.  
"That is not say that all will forgive you easily, and amongst those who saw what happened or heard directly from those who did be prepared for distrust and distance. It will be hard at first but I do not doubt that you will find the way to regain all our people's respect and regard and also your own view of yourself."

"What then should I do?"  
"Take up your place here, work and practice as before, speak as little of the events of Erebor and Dale as you can manage."  
"And if I cannot overcome the anger of those who know?"  
"We will face that if we have to, but not before we have to."

Thranduil dropped his hand and returned to his own chair, taking up his wine before settling himself back and propping his feet upon the table. Legolas raised his head and looked at him, with the firelight gilding his hair, his robe open and gathered in folds upon the floor and his expression as calm as ever, it was hard for a moment to call up the image of the armoured king and warrior he had said goodbye to on Ravenhill. Yet the two were one and always had been and would be until the world was at peace, or his father passed beyond the realm of battle, either across the sea or by forgoing physical form. Legolas hoped that either were a long way into the future.

It had been one of the few things that had distracted him during his travels, the relationship between mortals and their children; it was something no elf would ever understand. No more would men understand the nature of the family relationship for the elves, a bond that could last almost unchanging for eternity. At this moment he was very glad which race he belonged to.

He realised that his father was watching him again with tilted head and a serious expression and the feeling of tension crept back into him.  
"There is something else you wish to ask me is there not?"  
Tharnduil's voice was gentle but it was clear that he would not allow the last hurdle to go uncrossed. Legolas drew a deep breath and nodded.  
"Yes, and I would ask that you deal with it as firectly and truthfully as you have dealt with all other questions."  
The king was silent but bowed his head in agreement.  
"Did... " Legolas found that his lips would not frame the name "she …..return home?"


	7. Chapter 7 Long Shadows

**Long shadows**

"You are sure it was the king's son?"  
Bard stared at the man standing before him in doubt, a frown between his brows, not sure what to make of the news or whether to wish it true or false. The messenger nodded unconcerned by the frown.  
"Sure enough my lord. It is true that I did not see his face clear for he were cloaked and hooded as might be expected in such unfriendly weather, but the horse was of elvish stock clear enough and he sat it as one accustomed to riding. We saw him as he skirted the forest, finding the gate can be hard, as all who travel that place know, but he made his way onto the road as if he knew it well. He carried a bow too, one clearly of elvish make. I'm an archer sir and no bow of other making can be confused with theirs."

Bard nodded slowly, debating with himself just how much trust to place on the identification.  
"Aye, so I've heard. But why do you think it was prince Legolas, might it not be another elf with news for the king?"  
The messenger thought for a moment then answered slowly.  
"Well as to that, I cannot see how that would be for we had ridden up from the south sir and there was no sign of any trouble that would have caused the elves of Lorien to send out a messenger in such weather. As for the folk of Rivendell, the roads across the Misty mountains will be near impassable given the snow of this last month so a messenger from the far side of them seemed unlikely."  
He considered the matter again then seemed to abandon any doubts he might have had.  
"Besides the rider had a pair of knives crossed on his back and as I recall it the king's son was the only one to wear such weapons in such a manner."

Bard nodded and turned away to stare into the fire, the man was right enough about the knives, and about the unluckiness of a messenger travelling in such fierce storms without a very good reason. A reason of that kind would not be good news for any so perhaps it was to be hoped that it was indeed the wandering prince returned. Bard looked back to the waiting man and nodded dismissal then settled back into his chair to give the news more thought, not leastabout the implications for the people of Dale. The battle seemed long ago now, and yet some parts of it were as clear as if it had been yesterday. What could be in no doubt was the length of the shadows formed in the darkness of that day. One of which he lived with daily.

None had expected such a battle when first they set out to the mountain, but then neither had they expected the dwarves to be foolish and careless enough to wake the sleeping dragon. Though, if the truth were told, there were many amongst the men of the lake whose desire for the return of their stolen wealth would have run the risk even if they had recognised it as such. But it had been a dark day and one that followed on a day of fire and destruction beside the lake. So many lost, first to the dragon and then to the army of the shadow.

The men of the lake had accepted him as their leader after he had killed the dragon, so too had the Eleven king, something he still took great pride in, and so he had been present when the wizard spoke of Orc armies. But it had been clear that the mage knew nothing of their location or proximity, and when they broke out upon the plain was as surprised and as horrified as any, both at their coming and their number. When he and his people fell back to defend the town there had been no time to reflect on fault or future, and he had been busy just staying alive and keeping his family from harm, far too busy to know much of what was happening beyond the length of his sword. All he knew of the matters in that ruined square was what others had told him later.

The King of Mirkwood's son had arrived in Dale in the middle of the battle so the report had read, bringing with him dire news of yet another force of Orc on their way to join the current fray. He had not been there when the elf prince arrived, for which he was very glad for he did not think he could have borne the news had he heard it at that time. Already weary and outnumbered the battle had not been going well for them, and only the elvish force that had followed their king to defend the civilians in the city had prevented their wholesale slaughter. But losses had been heavy and Thranduil had been recalling his companies to regroup when the news arrived. It seemed unlikely that he had seen his son before the confrontation, if that was what it had been.

But whatever the cause Prince Legolas had been seen to leave the ruined city in some haste just after the Eagles had arrived and driven the coming force back with bill and talon. The elves and dwarves remaining on the plain had turned to hurry their retreat whilst those elves that had been fighting in Dale had gone out to clear the remnants of the first orc army. In the confusion his hurried departure had raised little comment. It was only afterwards, when the tilde of battle had ebbed, that the stories of a confrontation between the king and his son amid the dead had begun to circulate; the cause of it apparently another elf who had, so it was said, threatened the king's life.

Bard had given little thought to the departure, or credence to the stories, for they seemed so unlikely to any who knew the loyalty the elves had for their chosen Lords and their hatred for killing each other, and he had many other pressing concerns. Not least of these being the terrible meeting between Thranduil and the new king under the mountain. Knowing that he needed to live in peacewith both he had brought the two of them together inside the City walls hoping that what differences they had brought to the battlefield would have been left upon it. That had proved not to be the case for Dain had greeted Thranduil with charges of treachery new and old and of elvish enchantment, a bitterness that was apparently something to do with a dead dwarf. So great was the anger of both that it had ruined any hope for reconciliation between the elves and dwarves, for whatever the cause or detail of his grievance Dain saw in it some great dishonour engineered by the elves. Thranduil had been justifiably outraged by the claims made, for had he not just fought side by side with the dwarf lord? Dain seemed to see no such consideration and had continued his taunts much as he had out on the plain before the battle. The Elven king had kept his anger in check with the skill of one long practiced at such things, but his tight and contedptuous smile betrayed something of the rage within him. He had departed to his camp before Dain's spleen was fully vented, leaving the dwarf lord to shout curses at his back. Yet even then Bard had not connected the matter with the departure of the king's son, or with the other elf they said was involved. Only Thranduil's strange request later that same day had finally caused him to accept that there was a connection and that there must be some truth in the rumours and stories.

But it was clear within a few weeks that the prince had left that day and, as far as could be judged by those outside, he had not been back to Mirkwood since. Staring into the fire Bard wondered how he would have managed had it been his son who took such action, and in such a way at such a time. King Thranduil had shown little of what he felt about the matter but perhaps it was different when you were an immortal and had seen as many sunrises and full moons as the Elven king. Bard had long since come to understand that he would never see the world the way the Elven king did, any more than he could comprehend the length of his years when in his company. Others more learned than he had told him that Thranduil had lived all of the second age of Middle earth, and that he had fought in battles that were myth and legend to Men so long ago had they happened. Perhaps the king of Mirkwood had known the first age too, said some, like the Lady of the Wood. Not something to dwell on with when drinking wine with the object of the speculation!

As if the thought demanded action he rose and poured himself a cup of wine and then crossed to the window unlatching a shutter so that he might look out over the winter wrapped City now growing up from the ruins of Dragon fire. He hoped that the prince's return would bring no trouble or further pain for those involved, and that it would not make keeping his promise to Thranduil any harder, for keep it he was determined to do.

It was clear seven years now since the battle in the ruined streets of Dale, streets that were again lined with strong, high walls. The dead had been buried and the debris left by the dragon had been removed and now a new city was rising from the ruins, just as a new town was rising by the lake. The shadow of the dragon was fading and the people of Dale, as they now thought of themselves, like the people of the lake, had made much progress in rebuilding their lives. But none would deny that it would have been a much harder and slower business without the help of the Elven king. Dain had honoured Thorin's payment for the Arkenstone in full but beyond that he had provided little help to those ruined by the dragons awakening, being more concerned with rebuilding the dwarves ruined halls, So it had been to Thranduil they had turned for assistance once again and he had not failed them, providing them with temporary shelter in that first bitter winter, and in the year or two that followed. Many skilled elves had been sent to help in the rebuilding of both town and city and Mirkwood had provided them with building materials as well as food when they lacked it and healers for their sick and injured. Bard, knowing how great Thranduil's loss had been on that dreadful day had never really found the words to thank him or his people. The king had asked little enough in return and what he had asked for Bard was determined to provide in good measure.

Yet that little had cost Bard many a nights sleep in worrying that he might fail to live up to the challenge. Perhaps it was fortunate that dwarves rarely visited the city, it made it easier to keep track of them for having seen Dain's anger he had no doubts that Thranduil's concerns were well founded. What would happen should his son return to Dale? Though Dain's argument was not with the son it might once again draw his attention to the one who was at the root of his anger. Might it cause him to decide that pretending not to know was no longer the best course of action?

Bard stared down into the thronged streets, at stall holders calling their wares and the children playing beneath the lights of torches flickering as the first flakes of the next snow fall began to drift from the dark skies. For the moment all seemed to be at peace and the street markets were busy with people making preparations for the midwinter feast, people who for the moment had hope for their future and their children's. People who were trusting in him to sustain that peace. Most of them had little understanding of just how fragile their safety and comfort might yet prove to be. Walking the line of honouring his pledge to the Elven king, maintaining a relationship with the dwarves and also preserving the calm of his city might have become more difficult if the news were true, and there were those who needed to know of the possibility of the prince's return rather than wait for certainty.

With a sigh he closed and fastened the shutter again and then crossed to the writing table and took up pen and paper, drafting letters still did not come easily to him but fortunately this one needed no subtlety.

XXX

"Did... ". Legolas found that his lips would not frame the name "she …..return home?"  
He looked towards his father with some uncertainty, wanting to know, fearful of what he might hear and yet being anxious not to seem to cast blame.  
"I know that you had banished her but I do not think you would have demanded that at the end; not with the dwarf dead and her without any kin."

Thranduil shook his head and his voice was soft and laden with regret as he replied.  
"No, that could not be. She could not return. Had it just been the matter of banishment I would have set it aside without hesitation but unlike you she issued a threat direct, there was no doubt of where her arrow pointed. Nor any room to doubt the meaning of her words. She considered my life expendable in pursuit of her goal."  
He looked back towards the fire, sadness clearly written in his expression.  
"I would not have thought it possible, but if she did not mean to kill me then what was she seeking, her death? For if she had not lived within my house, and if I had not disarmed her swiftly, that would have been her fate."

He sighed and looked back towards his son.  
"You have asked me to be as truthful in this matter as I was on your fate, and so I shall be. In her case the choice is two fold and both deadly, either she was of our realm and so committed treason, or she was no longer of our realm and so a mercenary assassin. I have no doubts how our law givers would find on ether count. As for my intervening to sway the verdict, well I have already told you I could have done little for you had you committed such an act, I could do even less for her given what had gone before."  
Legolas returned the look with grief and uncertainty in his eyes.  
"But she is not dead, or so I take your words to mean. That being so what has happened to her? Have you abandoned her to wander where she can? You have not given leave for any to pursue her?"  
"No I have not, though there are those who would if I allowed it. I have done the best for her that I can, given her actions, without causing wider harm and distress. She has not returned, but do not fear that she is wandering the Wild alone and friendless. She is safe, unharried and under my protection as far as I can manage it. Those she is entrusted to will do their best to honour their pledge to me and keep her from harm while she remains with them. However the time is coming when she will need to go elsewhere but I promise youthat I will find a place for her that is safe."  
He gave a small shrug.  
"Provided she behaves wisely and does as I have instructed that is. I have not spoken with her since that day, it seemed better that way, but she knows my will. If she sets that aside then she must bear the consequences. But I do not think she will disobey this time for, from the reports, I think that she begins to see the turmoil she has brought about and regrets it. Even if she does not where else could she go?"  
He looked away towards the fire with another sigh.  
"But I fear that however many centuries pass she cannot return here."

"So, it must be banishment after all."  
Despite his best intentions Legolas heard a hint of bitterness creep into his tone and he cursed himself silently as he saw the look of sadness settle once more upon his father's face amd wishing to dispel that look he hurried into speech again.  
"I do not wish to complain at her treatment for I know the seriousness of her actions; it just grieves me that she has lost her home too, having already lost her family."  
His expression of sadness intensified as Thranduil looked down into his wine and he spoke so softly that only elvish ears could have heard.  
"I had thought we were her family but it seems that was not the case, for she put us aside easily enough. Nor do I have any doubt that in that moment she wished my death."  
He took a sip of wine then looked back towards his son.  
"But do not think I would allow that hurt to weight with me if I could find a way for it to be different. Even though she clearly feels no loyalty towards me I have forgiven her and mean her no harm."  
He leaned forward and refilled his wine cup as he continued.  
"But harm would have come upon her had I allowed her to return and for many reasons, not least because of her championship of the dwarves. Nor could I be sure my will would provide her safety, I do not think any would raise a hand to harm her directly but the forest can be a dangerous place even for an elf, all it would have required would be for others to turn away when that danger threatened."

Legolas looked at his father with distress.  
"Would they hate one of their own so much?"  
The desire not to believe it rang clear and strong in his voice but Thranduil met his look without flinching. Though he knew the pain and fear that must lie behind the question he had promised honesty and truth and that was what there would be.  
"Her name is never mentioned, except as a curse by some she served with, though I have let it be known that I do not favour such attitudes. She drew arms on me Legolas and as I have told you there are those that would have had me bring her here and put her on trial for her actions, others still who consider her banishment irrevocable and so would see her executed as a foreign assassin."  
He saw a look of horror bloom in his son's eyes and felt a stab of sorrow, for it was clear that the other still viewed the matter only through the veil of his own fondness, but if he was to return home and find peace he must be brought to an understanding of the wider concerns Though there could be no doubt that he would find it hard.  
"You must see it through other's eyes if you are to understand. She was not a maid or a farmer or even a healer, she was a captain in the guard Legolas, with responsibilities for those she commanded," his tone was gentle but the words were uncompromising, "yet she demanded that I risked more of our blood to warn just one when many were dying around her. When she did not get her way she threatened me and therefore our Realm."

He saw Legolas shift uneasily in his chair and raised a hand to ensure his silence, now they had embarked upon this matter that held so much distress for them both it was better that it was taken to its full conclusion quickly.  
"If she had gone to Ravenhill alone when she heard the news, had risked her own life to warn the dwarf, it might have been forgiven, or at least gone unremarked. There was nothing to prevent her doing so as far as I can judge, she heard of the matter upon her arrival within the city, before I knew of it. I had not commanded that she might not go, and I doubt that you had, who else was there to prevent her? Mithrindir? He wanted the dwarves warned too and would surely have encouraged her had she shown any sign of setting off to carry such a warning. As for the urgency, she could have reached Ravenhill as easily alone as with a company beside her, more so perhaps; and yet she made no attempt to do it, instead waiting to waylay me and demanding other lives be risked instead. This she did before my guard who had been fighting in the streets, seeing their comrades fall, not long before."  
He shook his head slightly.  
"That could never have been hidden Legolas. Few who lost loved ones that day would forgive it."

Legolas made no response and as the silence lengthened the king looked away towards the shadows, seeing in them memories of the past. Terrible memories of greed and treachery and death. Memories he would spare his Realm and his son if any vigilance of his could do so.  
"There are those here who remember with some personal bitterness the reasons for our distrust of the dwarves, and they have just cause. Were she to return I doubt she would respect that cause."  
His expression took on a reflective note.  
"Some of the fault in this is mine Legolas; and I admit it freely. I gave her preferment before her time. She fought well and valiantly and I thought I saw in her a maturity and clear sight that events have shown to be lacking."  
For a moment there was more silence but for the cracking of the burning wood upon the fire as the king recalled the days immediately before the march to Dale, Legolas waited, wondering what was coming next until the king continued his tone still thoughtful.  
"I should have seen my fault sooner, though I confess that I had begun to wonder about her judgement before I first saw the danger of the dwarf. When she would have killed the orc in anger I knew my error but I was granted no time to repair it. Though my own killing of the creature would have made it hard to justify punishing her," his voice dropped to a whisper and it seemed as if a great weight descended upon him as he recalled that moment.

Legolas would have liked to ask more about that, for he wondered many times in the days that followed what had caused his father to do such a thing, but after a second or two Thranduil seemed to push the memory away and the moment was lost as he continued.  
"I valued her mother's mother as few others, she stood within my guard at the last alliance and her skill protected me often. When I fell the first time it was she who stood over me with bow and knife and gave me time to regain enough of my senses to escape the creatures of the dark."  
He looked at his son with a soft smile of happy memory.  
"When she found her one I danced with great joy at her joining. A sad day it was when the call awoke in her and she left to join the ships." The smile died. " When her daughter's daughter was left alone I never considered any option but to take her into my house. Perhaps I was wrong to do so, or perhaps I was too indulgent, and convinced myself that I saw her mother's mother in her, discerned qualities that were not there. In time I think they would have come but she was more impulsive and naïve than I let myself see. I had hoped,... well that does not matter and I knew that before she left."

For a moment there was silence again, both of them lost in memory, then the king turned his eyes back towards the fire.  
"So for the moment she remains in Dale and under the protection of Bard; though it would not be wise to speak of that outside this room, given that many travel to Dale these days."  
Legolas wondered why her presence in Dale was something he should not speak of but pushed the thought aside for his father was still speaking.  
"She holds a post as a guard to my representatives there, and with trade growing and the increased movement of people it is not considered strange that elves remain within the city. She is not the only one and so her presence is not so very remarkable. Only the very observant would notice that she of them all never returns to the forest."

Thranduil leant forward and picked up the wine jug reaching forward to fill his son's empty wine cup before rising to hand it to him, fingers closing firmly around the hand that took it. He regarded at his son with tilted head and questioning look.  
"So, not truly banished, and safe enough, but not allowed back. What did you expect Legolas? That you would return here and find her commanding the guards at the gate? You must know that could not be so."  
Legolas shook his head and looked back at his father steadily.  
"No, and I confess my fears of the outcome have been far greater."  
"As I said I have let no harm come to her. I have chosen her companions carefully and they know my will and will obey it."  
"But she can never return. Our people will never forgive?"  
The king sighed again.  
"Many died Legolas. At such times compassion for transgressors can be thin."

Legolas set his wine cup down with a snap.  
"So they will forgive me but not her? Why, because I am your son? For love of you? Or simply because I am a prince not a guard? Despite the years that you sheltered and protected her? Does my position as your son mean so much?"  
The tone of his voice was harsh with anger. Thranduil released his hand and turned away seating himself again in his carved chair beside the fire.  
"The cases are not at all the same as we have already discussed," weariness was creeping into his voice, "and if you do not understand that then I needs explain it more plainly, for should it fall that you come to sit in my place then you must show judgement without favour."  
He paused for a moment to marshal his thoughts, wondering how best to present the case to his troubled son.  
"You left your comrades it is true but it was to protect her, another of your kin, and you asked no one else to join you in the matter. She demanded that I sent her comrades to certain and pointless death in vain pursuit of her own desires. When her wishes were denied she threatened the life of her King. Had she not had the years of my protection then she would have been dead in snow once she drew the arrow."  
Legolas sighed and inclined his head.  
"I understand her crimes and the magnitude of them." He drew a deep breath, "and I understand what would have happened had you not disarmed her when you did and accept the rightness of it."  
Thranduil looked at him without expression.  
"So tell me then, do you truly not understand why you may return and yet she may not?"

Legolas looked up to meet his father's eyes.  
"Yes. I know it. First born we may be but the answer here is no different to what it would be in Gondor or Rohan or for any of the sons of men. Nor would it be different for the dwarves. Not even those who died on Ravenhill, they followed their king and kin and never doubted the rightness of it. None of them would have demanded her action nor condoned it if they had seen it. She betrayed her oaths of loyalty at a time of battle and there is no forgiveness for that."  
He looked towards his father with an almost pleading expression.  
"But she loved the dwarf. Is that not some defence?" He snatched up his cup and stared down into his wine keeping his voice steady only with some effort. "Will they not see that and forgive her enough for her to return in safety? Can you not make them see?"  
"No." Thranduil's voice was low and gentle again. "It would make no difference even if I could do it. But I cannot make them see what I do not believe to be the truth."

Legolas felt a shiver of shock, and disbelief etched his voice as he replied.  
"Would she have risked so much for anything else? You think she was mistaken and that she did not love him?"  
"I am sure of it, though I confess that I spoke differently to her after your leaving."  
"Why?"  
"For your sake, and because it seemed a pointless cruelty to do otherwise when her distress at that moment was real enough. The dwarf was dead and the matter was ended, it could do no harm to any other and I hope my words gave her some comfort. But the time will come when she will know the truth and that may be more painful still. Even if she could return it may be that she would not wish to be here when she discovers her mistake."  
Legolas did not know whether to feel elation or despair, that so much had been destroyed for an illusion or that perhaps his hopes need not be set aside. The uncertainty was clear in his face and voice as he replied.  
"You are so sure? That she was mistaken."

Thranduil read his son's feeling easily and smothered a sigh, knowing then that the pain was not yet over. He spoke slowly, picking his words with care once more.  
"I have seen love Legolas, and have come to recognise it and its looks, love of many kinds. I have seen it dawn fierce and frightening in a parent on seeing their new born child, I have seen it between comrades in arms on the eve of battle knowing they will live or die together when dawn comes. I have seen love appear like the sun suddenly and unexpectedly emerging from the clouds between two who have known each other centuries and watched it grow slowly from a seed sowed between two playing children. I know the looks of love my son; a king must learn to read people's faces and their hearts if he is not to become a tyrant."  
He watched the blue eyes meeting his with such painful effort and wondered if he could ever tell his son what he suspected, for he had spoken no less than the truth when he had said he understood the many forms and looks of love. But if he ever could then that day was far away. For the moment he would offer another reason and one that might yet prove to be the case.  
"It was not love that she felt, at least not for the dwarf. For love itself perhaps. For the idea of being in love, for a vision of herself in love even. But not love for the dwarf and in time she will know that."

Legolas looked away then, turning his gaze to the shifting snow shadow beyond the parapet.  
"I wondered that it happened so quickly." He said slowly. "A word or two, a look exchanged, a little story telling perhaps, but nothing more, how could there have been when he was locked away? How can that create a love that would cause you to deny your kin?"  
The tone of his voice betrayed a tightening of his throat but his eyes were dry and steady. His father regarded him with understanding of the things that were not being said and answered gently.  
"It cannot, unless you are chosen of the Gods perhaps and marked for special joy or tragedy." He gave a wry smile, "I see no God's hand in this matter. Had Sauron himself been involved in the fight perhaps I might see it differently but I do not think that this was an occasion intended to create great legends and songs."  
Thranduil reached forward and took a nut from the tray and his voice took on a dry and ironic tone.  
"Had it been so I would have expected Mithrandir to have shown more interest in the matter!"  
Legolas looked back to him with a puzzled frown.  
"Why?"  
The king waved his hand in an elegant gesture of dismissal.  
"He is a wizard, and whilst I welcome him to my halls with pleasure whenever he should chose to visit it is the case that in recent years he usually appears when something that might be the matter for great story telling is afoot."  
He gave his son a droll look as he peeled a pine nut.  
"A doomed and unlikely love created by the gods between an elf and dwarf who are strangers and set against the background of the return of the forces of darkness would seem to be grand tragedy on the scale that might warrant his attention. Were it to be so."

For the first time since the parting on Ravenhill Legolas laughed in unfeigned amusement at the absurdity of the vision his father created. But the feeling faded as quickly as it had come and his reply was sombre.  
"But perhaps I should be affronted then. If it were as you describe then my case would not be so pitiable."  
A look of sorrow crossed the king's face.  
"Not pitiable Legolas, never think that I would see it as that. Unfortunate, mistaken and sad maybe, but never pitiable."  
"And others?"  
"Few know much of it, only those who stood with me at that moment, and they will not speak of it."  
"For love of you?"  
The king nodded.  
"Yes for love of me, for most of them have stood beside me in many battles, but more for their love of our realm and its people. You are their Prince Legolas and they will defend you where they can. It is the age of the world and will be for some time to come. Perhaps there will come an age when it is not so, when the nature and judging of duty may be softened, but that time is far away."  
For a moment Legolas was silent and then he gave a twisted smile.  
"If she did not truly love the dwarf then do you think that in time her heart may open to others?"

Thranduil felt a wave of despair wash over him for though the words were light in tone there was no mistaking the look of sudden hope that accompanied them, it seemed that his son's pain was a long way from being behind him. He could only be glad that matters had gone no further than they had when the dwarf came Perhaps he should tell Legolas the full truth of the hopelessness of it, but now it came to the moment when he might he found that he couldn't do it. There had been enough pain and grief for one winter's night let it end now. Yet he could not let that look go without some response, some warning not to hope for what could not be gained.  
"Perhaps, in time, but not to anyone she knows as yet. All others must always be a part of something she will wish to forget."

Let him make of that what he would, in time he may need to know the sorry details but for now let the matter rest.

He took another tartlet from the tray and bit into it thoughtfully, Legolas clearly needed some occupation and one that would take him out amongst the people of the forest and with no reason to talk of dragons or war. Something to keep him away from any pull of Dale too. Thranduil suppressed a smile, the midwinter feast was nearly upon them and there was much to do, between writing his report and hauling logs for the fires it shouldn't be too difficult to ensure he had no time to brood. If that wasn't effort enough he would send him out with the parties to find the kissing bough, not seen during the days of the spiders but now reported as growing within the glades again. He shot his son a sly glance remembering his own efforts on such forays, yes that should keep him occupied.


	8. Chapter 8 First Steps

**First steps**

Bard left Dale with a small party four days before the midwinter festival riding south and west toward Long Lake. A day's easy riding brought him to the new Laketown now growing up on the far shore of the lake and he stayed the night there talking trade and related matters with the new master. It was inevitable that the future should be on the Master's mind and that he should seek reassurance from one he thought might have cause to know more of events in the wider world, and particularly their elven neighbours.

"I have heard that the forest recovers from the darkness at last." The master said as the first course was laid before them  
Bard nodded,  
"So it seems. though I know very little of the nature of the darkness that has sp hurt the great forest. Thiose most affcetd by it speak little of the cause or the remedy Though the state of matters beyond the mountains seems still to be in some doubt the creeping pollution of the forest closest to our land is retreating."  
"Then I will take the reports to be true, for you are held in some esteem by the Elven king, having fought beside him, and so have knowledge rather than rumour to rely upon. The word of so great a lord must carry more weight than the gossip of the journey men.""  
Bard smiled.  
"Great lord he is; one of some power, not all of it comprehended by men I would guess. Though he wields much force that is also understood by men, not least in his sword arm, He is a warrior of the kind the minstrels sing, but if the stories are true he has seen much practice in harsher days."  
The Master nodded.  
"As did most of the elven kings and princes of the past; fair and mighty though their race is their past is mired deep in sorrow and war."  
"True, for the old lore says they are hated above all else by the evil, though why that should be the case I do not know."  
"Let us hope that we never need to know," the master said with a smile, "one dragon is enough for any man's life time. The Orc armies were routed, and we all lost many in that battle, let us hope that it ends the shadow for ever."

The new lord of Dale nodded silently, though something within him said that was not their fate. He took up the earlier thread of their conversation.  
"King Thranduil has always treated me kindly it is true, more than kindly, for in his eyes I by chance belong to one of a vanishing small group to which he also belongs, those that have fought a dragon. I think it fair to say that he respects all who have faced their fire and survived it, and those too who have joined battle against the forces of the dark. None of the people of Dale, or the lake, from the youngest to the oldest cripple have any cause to complain of his treatment of them."  
The Master inclined his head in agreement.  
"That is true, he has never stinted in offering practical aid. But I confess I find him hard to deal with," he thought for a moment then gave a rueful smile, "I suppose it is because I am used the merry nature of the raft elves and find little that is merry in their king."

Bard nodded his understanding.  
"I also found his nature strange at first, kindly though he has been. He always spoke fair to me, accepting me as a leader and equal in the world of men, despite my humble occupation when we fiorst met. Yet there was a distance in him that I did not know how to read at first. He did not fit with my vision of elves either, and he could seem stern and chilly at times, though his concern and understanding has never been in doubt."  
He took a deep draught of wine and then sighed.  
"It was my son that first put me right on the matter, for one day, after meeting with Thranduil, I mentioned it at home and he asked me 'would you find any king of men easier or less strange? For is it not the nature and fate of kings to always be apart? How many kings who have laboured for centuries to hold back the dark and keep their people safe from evil would you think to be merry?'"

The Master looked at him in surprise.  
"Your son shows some insight for one so young, for there is much truth in that. It is indeed the nature of things that a king is always set apart; if he is not then jealousy and dissent will follow. Not only kings either, any who have authority over others for the sake of all must guard their tongues, their hearts and their preferences. If you were to ask the barge men on the waterfront here as to my nature no doubt they would talk of me as distant too, and I'm sure merry would not figure amongst their descriptions."  
Bard smiled.  
"Aye, I have learned that these past years too and confess that these days I would often seek to emulate the Elven king in his restraint. But then there is the matter of his elven nature to be accounted for also, I have heard that he is an elf not of Silvan stock, so not of the wood, but of the Sindar, and they are a more lordly people."  
"I have heard much the same, and stories too of his past and the battles he has fought in."  
Bard smiled at that.  
"Great battles indeed, the stuff of legends and great tales. He was at the gates of Mordor itself so I have heard and I have no reason to doubt it. Once, when we met upon the road to talk of trade, we convened at an inn where the ale was thin and fare mean. It was my choice and I apologised to him and would have sent out to find batter meat and drink, but he waved my concerns away and told me that to one who had once dined only upon raw dragon flesh for a week no food or drink could ever seem truly poor."

The Masters brows rose.  
"Such memories would never fade, and those who have them will always be set apart, king or not." He frowned on a sudden thought. "The memory of an immortal must be a double edged blade, for both sorrow as well as joy will be remembered, and it Is hard for men to comprehend the span of elves. If the Elven king hails from a time before this age then perhaps that is all the explanation his nature needed. I wonder how many of his kind still walk the world and how many dwell within the forest, for it has never occurred to me that the raft elves have seen such events."  
Talk had then drifted back towards rafts, to trade and tariffs on the lake and river and all thoughts of the Elven king and the wider world were put aside.

As Bard rode across the marsh towards the edge of the forest he thought of that converstaion again and of its impact for his current errand.

Both dwarf and elf were strange to men; for the span of their years meant that they remembered things that were only story to the children of men. How many years had passed since the source of the estrangement between the dwarves of the Iron Hills and the elves of Mirkwood? For it had been clear when Dain and Thranduil met in Dale that it was both bitter and of some standing. Where had it started? Elves and dwarves were never truly friends, and those who lived side by side with both got used to the tensions that could sometimes cause, but Dain's anger surpassed what would normally be expected. As for Thranduil, he seemed unsuprised by it and yet there was no doubting both his own anger and the bitterness that seemed to have no obvious cause. Perhaps it was the result of a shadow of something long past, and yet he did not think that was the total case for it appeared to be linked to the dwarf Thorin who had died upon the mountain.

Whatever the cause he was determined that its shadow should not mar the peace of his people and it was for this reason he had ventured out in winter so close to the festival, determined to speak to the Elven king of the thing he held in trust and of his returning son.

XXX

It was just before the hour pf the midday when he came within sight of Thranduil's party settled at the side of the road close to a small cluster of trees. To those who looked upon it with casual eyes it would appear nothing more than a hunting group halted for a meal, for a fire burned brightly but no tent had been struck and the King was seated beside the flames cloaked and booted against the snow, his horse, draped in his banner, was tethered to a bush close behind him. He was ringed by a rank of elf lords similarly dressed, but each with a bow upon their back, and around them stood another rank of elf warriors casually scanning the forest with bows in hand and arrows nocked. The sentinels turned towards him as his party crested the rise and came within sight, though he was certain that they had been under observation by scouts from the party for a mile or more.

As they drew closer he saw Thranduil speak to one of the elf Lords who rose from beside the fire and came forward to greet him. Satisfied of his welcome the elf guards turned their eyes back towards the road and forest, and, as Bard was led forward, two more of the elf Lords rose and went to speak to his guards leading them a little way away to where another fire was burning and more elven guards were seated.

Approaching the fire Bard bowed and inclined his head in greeting to the Elven king and was given a similar inclination of the head, and a slight smile graceful inclination of the hand waived his guest to a seat beside the fire. Bard settled himself and addressed the Elven king across the fire with no further delay.  
"My apologies, Lord Thranduil, for bringingyou from you Halls at such a season, and in such weather."  
Thranduil made a slight dismissive movement of his hand and spoke kindly.  
"No matter, there are many who can prepare for the feast and the weather is of no concern to me."  
Bard, taking in the white armour, the silver grey lined cloak and the berry draped crown that sat so easily upon the king's pale gold hair, thought that this might well be true.

The woodland king took in Bard's snow damp mantle and reddened nose and his smile widened a little.  
"But I assume the matter is of some urgency to bring you this far from fire and family."  
He indicated to a waiting elf to bring wine and watched in silence while Bard drew off his gloves and wrapped his hands around the warm cup with a sigh of pleasure. He also noted the sudden sense of uncertainty in the man of Dale at the mention of family and suppressed a sigh, for he thought he knew what the topic of their conversation was to be. He waived away the offered wine cup and fixed his attention on his companion.  
"What then do you need to discuss." He asked softly  
He saw Bard dart a look towards his party beside the other fire and smiled again, waiving his elf lords away and waiting until they had joined the watching guards before indicating to Bard to come and sit beside him. As Bard rose the king spoke softly.  
"You may speak in complete confidence. None will hear us, some because they cannot others because they will not."

Bard settled himself beside the Elven king carefully, suddenly aware of the height and solidity of the elf. He had seen Thranduil at war and had no doubt of the physical power of the king, yet that strength was something that was rarely given a thought by those who had more mundane dealings with him. At a distance, from which he was usually viewed, he could appear to be so strange and beautiful as to be unreal; but here, at closer quarters, his physical presence was real enough. Bard wondered how many years it would take for him to acquire something similar, if he ever could.

He drew a deep breath and steeled himself to ask what he must.  
"It is in part of family I would speak my Lord."  
Thranduil nodded, his eyes fixed on the fire.  
"You have heard of my son's return and wondered what it means for your charge."  
Bard inclined his head in acknowledgment and relief, glad to have the most difficult part of the conversation taken from him.  
"I have my Lord. I know little of the matter other than your request that she remain within Dale and that the dwarves do not know of her presence if it can be arranged. But I believe that your son also has some interest in the matter and so I wondered if the situation is to remain as it has been during his absence? Or what you would seek to change in the arrangement?"  
Thranduil turned to look at the man beside him, reading his unease without difficulty. For a moment he was reminded of his own early and faltering steps as a king and he took care to keep his voice as expressionless as he could where this matter was involved. Bard could not know the depths of the grief and turmoil that this matter carried, nor should he, it was not his burden to carry.

"Is there some reason, other than my son's return, for the matter to change?" he asked mildly.  
"Not unless you wish it my Lord. She is safe enough for the moment, though in time that may change as the number of dwarves within the mountain rises; unless you think that Dain will forget his interest."  
A strange look passed across the Elven king's face and he shook his head, his smile becoming bitter and mocking.  
"No that will not happen, as well expect this snow to turn to white gems as hope for that. Such as Dain do not forget a grievance, real or imagined."  
Bard drew a deep breath and spoke slowly.  
"Then will the prince come to Dale about the matter? For at the moment she does as you have bidden her but should Prince Legolas come will that continue? What should I do if she tries to leave? Or if he should want to remove her?"  
He met the eyes of the king as firmly as he could, wondering again what it was about those so very blue eyes that betrayed the centuries they had seen, even as they hid so much else.

Thranduil shook his head.  
"He will not, either come to Dale or interfere with our arrangement, you have my word upon that. It is true that he had some interest in the matter that Dain spoke of, but, as I told the dwarf king, there was no elvish plot by myself or my son. You may be reassured that his concern in the matter was purely that of family."  
There was a moment of silence then Thranduil looked back to the fire again and spoke slowly and with obvious reluctance.  
"He and I have spoken on this matter at some length and I would guard his interests if I can, just as you would no doubt do were our roles reversed. He will not come to Dale, and should that change I will tell you of it before the event. For the moment things remain as they were, though I too know that in time another way and place must be found. Until that time she remains your trust unless you would have it removed. Speak if that is the case and I will hold no grievance at it for I know it must cause you some trouble. Other than that there is no need for you to understand more of the matter than you do and so for his sake I will tell you no more of it, but do not think it is for any distrust of you."

Bard took a drink of warm wine before replying.  
"No my lord I would not surrender my trust while I may still honour it. As for the rest I understand well enough the difficulties a parent faces. I doubt it changes much however long the life of either parent or child."  
Thranduil looked back towards him and smiled softly, a genuine rueful humour lit his eyes.  
"No, it does not, though the relationship between elf and their elflings does change by necessity, and perhaps in a manner different to that between a man and his child. It must given that an elf can expect to live beside an unchanging parent for endless ages," a look of sorrow replaced the humour, "unless war or some other tragedy intervenes"

For some reason he could not fathom Bard was made unhappy by the look, for he would not have presumed to call the king of the wood a friend, and sought to dispel the cloud of grief that had so suddenly and unexpectedly descended upon his companion.  
"As we are speaking of offspring my Lord, may I ask you a question that my daughter raised? It concerns you."  
"Me? Well .. very well, ask and I will answer if I can."  
"She had heard from a traveller that you were born of the Sindar lords and not the Silvan elves."  
"That is true, what of it?"  
"She had also heard that the Sindar as a race have a great love of music and song."  
"Yes, that is also true."  
"When we were talking of the coming feast she asked if the Elven king played music and if he did what instruments did he play? Forgive me if it seems an impertinence but she has asked several times now, and though I could forbid her the question, or lie to her, I would give her an honest answer if I can."

Thranduil laughed, a thing that Bard had rarely heard him do.  
"By his music she would know him? A wise child perhaps," he said. "Very well you may answer her, and tell her that he plays harp, flute and lute."  
"All, my lord?"  
"All."  
"Then I know what her next question will be; shall you play at the coming feast in the forest?"  
The king smiled agaiin and the sparkle in his blue eyes was was not a reflection from the snow or the fire but came from something, some sudden joy, within him, yet when he spoke it was almost too softly for Bard to hear.  
"There are no spiders this side of the mountains now and this midwinter all will partake of the feast. For the first time in centuries I will be able to enjoy the festivities without the knowledge that I have sent some of my people into the darkness and to danger when there should be light and laughter. Yes, this year I may play."

XXX

The eve of the midwinter feast dawned fair, the pale winter sun slanted through the forest drawing a glittering answer from the snow beneath the trees and filling the glades with a hard and brilliant light. The air was chill and yet bird song came from every direction and the occasional rustling of bushes betrayed the movement of those small animals that were awake and in search of food. Legolas sat on a fallen trunk and soaked in the beauty of the world around him, the bird song and the sounds of creatures moving was balm to his still bruised soul for it made it easier to bear the silence that filled his deeper being.

Seven sunrises had come since he first crossed the bridge back to his father's halls and each day had passed in similar fashion. In early light of morning he would ride out with the forage parties seeking kindling wood for fires and scouring the glades closest to his home for the kissing bough, only one of which they had so far found. As the sun rose higher they were joined by the elflings, released from the lessons and duties to gather smaller kindling and branches of green to decorate his father's house. This they laid on small sledges that little groups of them would haul back to dry beside the kitchen fires or pile under canopies of straw to wait the attentions of those older and taller than themselves.

As the daylight strengthened he joined the armed forage parties, those that ventured further from the safety of their stronghold and the lands protected by his father and towards the land blighted by spider venom. They had ridden north, south and west but so far there had been no sign of the creatures of the creeping darkness, however their legacy was clear to see, with many trees felled and others with branches dying, dead or already fallen. It would be many winters before the elves of the woodland had to look far for wood for their fires.

The first forays had been beset with worries, coming just a day and night after his first reunion with his father. It had been with great trepidation that he had joined the group as his father had commanded, but he soon discovered that things were much as he had been told, at least amongst his current companions. None of his previous comrades of the guard were included in these groups, most still occupied in protecting the Elven king's stronghold and the lands closest to it, or deployed in Dale, but there were many he knew by name and even some he had practiced with in the darker days. There were ten in his party and whilst there had been some constraint in their manner nothing that could not be explained by having the king's son amongst them, and an elf that had travelled further beyond the forest than they. Slowly had had relaxed, smiling at their constant banter and answering their questions about his travels and the things he had seen with relative ease, though not always as fully as he might have done.

When on the third day they were accustomed enough to his presence to put up a song as they rode he had joined in without much thought. The noise of their company was welcome for it shielded him from the silence he knew was waiting when he was alone.

The work was hard at times for some of the fallen trunks and branches were large and had to be cut before they could be fastened to the ponies sleges before being towed back to the Halls. Like the others of his group Legolas spent a fair proportion of his time on foot, freeing the dragged wood when it caught upon bush or creeper. Two or three forays they made a day, for the weather was kind with frost but no new snowfall to slow them down.

But kindly as the weather might be the winter forest still held dangers for elf and horse as the light faded, so as the sun slid behind the tree tops they would end their foraging and retreat to the land beside the river where large fires were kept burning. As the light faded the wood gathers and all those able set to cutting and stacking the logs and kindling within in the stalls built for the purpose. There many would gather for beside the large fires were set trays on smaller fires, well stocked with roasted nuts and sliced tubers sprinkled with herbs and spices. Small vats warm spiced wine and fruit juice stood at the ends of each tray. Once the labour was finished for the day elves would gather in groups, family and friends, to exchange news and gossip. For Legolas this was a time to listen rather than to talk and he spent much of his time sipping warm wine and gathering the mundane knowledge of day to day happenings of his kin.

As the darkness deepened he would withdraw to his room to take up his pen and continue with his report. That report was taking rather longer than he had thought it would for he would often find himself slipping back into the thoughts and fears of his days upon the road. But he was making some progress, which was fortunate as his father asked him for an update every evening before they dined. Other than that no further mention was made of the events that had taken him away or of their shadow. He suspected that his father would not raise the subject again unless he had some reason to do so, but it seemed that it was never far from his mind for on several occasions each evening Legolas looked up to find the king watching him with concern and a little sadness. For himself Legolas wanted more time to absorb the implications of their conversation of that night before he broached the subject again, for he found that he was no less confused and unhappy about the events than when he had ridden the road home.

But today the mundane chatter around him had held something of more urgent and personal interest to him. Two days ago his father had ridden out in the early light accompanied only by his personal guard, so not a hunting party, and his route had taken him east along the river and towards the plain in the direction of Dale. Legolas wondered what the cause of this journey might be, for the people of Dale and Lake own would be preparing for their own midwinter feast and so it was unlikely that any matter of business would require the King of Mirkwood's attention at such a time. The meeting had not been mentioned when they met and it had not seemed of such importance that he should ask. But as he stood in idle conversation with two of his own group he overheard two others behind him, not realising his presence, wondering what it was that had taken their king out to a roadside meeting with the new lord of Dale at this season. Their conversation had been more than idle gossip for it was clear that the king and his companion had been involved in discussion of some serious matter. Clear also that it had raised some concern in the minds of those discussing it. Legolas reminded himself that they had many reasons for concern, not least a mountain full of gold on their borders, a beacon to all greed and evil. What would they do if another dragon was to come?

But were such deep concerns at the root of Thranduil's meeting? He doubted it, more likely that the meeting in such a way and at such a time, was for more personal reasons, and it was not hard to hazard what those reasons might be. Strange though it was he felt no desire to journey to Dale, or to seek … her…out, either there or anywhere else. He had taken his father's words about her mistake and his hope to heart and he had turned his back upon it. For he was sure there was something else that his father had not shared that night, and that for the moment he didn't want to know.

As he shared his attention between the conversation before him and the one behind him Legolas was determined to tell his father what he had heard, Though speaking of Dale would be hard to allow that to prevent him from discussing a matter of real importance would be cowardice, and he was as determined to forswear any more of that as he was to abandon false hope..

XXX

The first day of the festival dawned jewel bright, the rising sun sending the mist fleeing and glittering on the overnight snow fall that had removed all traces of the previous days' efforts. Outside the Elven king's halls the fires were already lit, warming the freezing air a little and sending small plumes of white smoke up through the trees to trail lazily against the blue of the sky. Within the halls the fires were also lit and an early breakfast was in progress for those who still had duties to perform upon this special day.

In the royal quarters everything was bustle, breakfast had been consumed and cleared and Legolas was standing on the balcony of his father's rooms watching the preparations below. Behind him his father was engaged in signing documents prior to starting to dress for the day. As Legolas watched a group of excited elflings scurried across the threshold and out towards the growing fires colliding with a guard with horrified squeals before racing off to find something or someone who was, at that moment, the most important thing in their world. With a smile he turned back towards the room.  
"It's been very many seasons since our people have been able to celebrate so well and in true peace."  
Thranduil raised his eyes from the papers before him and gave a faint answering smile.  
"Yes, I expect that to be demonstrated in the dedication they will show in enjoying it"  
Legolas nodded, his smiled widening and he turned back to the scene below him.

The king finished reading the last of the sheaf of papers before him and signed it with a sigh. Then he waived his hand towards the pile and gave his secretary a mournful look.  
"Let that be all the documents I see today, as the Prince has noted it is a celebration like few others these past centuries and I have other duties to perform, those better suited to the nature of the occasion."  
His secretary smiled and bowed.  
"Indeed Sire, and much joy it will give to many."  
With that he gathered up the paper, bowed again to the king and then to Legolas and left.

Legolas looked at his father uncertainly.  
"Did I catch a note of special meaning in that remark, or was I mistaken?"  
"You were not mistaken." Thranduil's tone was dry and held a note of resignation.  
"What then was his meaning?"  
His father poured himself a cup of warm, honeyed, milk from the jug upon the table.  
"I believe you found a kissing bough?" He sighed and sipped his drink.  
Legolas nodded.  
"Yes we did, in a glade towards the far west of the forest. It caused much joy for it must be the first found since the year the spiders crossed the mountains."  
Thranduil sighed again.  
"I expect it did. They are thought to be a sign of good fortune in the coming seasons."  
"I know, but why… ", his words tailed off as he recalled the sum of the tradition and his smile widened.  
"Ah yes, of course, it has been so long I had forgotten. But surely you don't object, you are our king and as traditions run it is harmless enough, and requires little preparation or effort. Nothing but a kiss, as a father might give a daughter."  
His father gave him a long steady look over the top of his cup.  
"Yes, as you say, our traditions are important."  
Legolas nodded and returned the look with one of wide eyed innocence.  
"There are communities where such things are less,,, parental of course, amd more...wearing. I heard of one when I was travelling. A society of mortal men it is true, they are more literal in their view of their lord as father. There they expect the first child of all marriages to be begotten of their lord. It is felt to ensure that the first begotten will be strong and binds all closer to their lord who is therefore kin to them all.

Thranduil met his look with one of apparent disinterest though there was spark in his eyes that said he understood his son's intention.  
"Really? I would have thought it a recipe for fraternal infighting. But the children of men are strange creatures." He moved slowly across the room and stepped out onto the balcony, as he passed Legolas he leaned down and said gently, "I suggest that such hearsay doesn't warrant a mention in your report, there are some who might mistake your intention."  
Legolas maintained his innocent look with some difficulty.  
"But you said to report as fully as I could my Lord."  
His father turned and gave him another of those long steady looks he was such master of before he replied gently.  
"Nevertheless I suggest that you omit that particular sliver of knowledge. In fact you may take it as a command. Should you forget I might be tempted to widen the duty for our own particular tradition to all males of the royal line?"  
Legolas grinned back at his parent.  
"Somehow I do not think that would meet with the people's approval my Lord. The King it must be. It has been a long time, so how many….."  
"Thirty.  
"Thirty." Legolas said in awe, "that many?"  
"Since last the bough was found and who remain as yet unbonded, yes. Few have sought to found family while the darkness has been so close."

The king stepped further towards the edge of the parapet and looked down at the gathering throng of elves.  
"The years have been hard and they have fought well and long. I have no complaint of their loyalty, or of their steadfastness." He looked back towards his son, "this year will be a feast indeed and I begrudge them nothing Legolas. I will play my part and with joy however tiresome some elements of it may be,"  
Legolas joined him and leant over to watch a gaggle of elflings trying to drag a long larger than any of them to towards the fire. He smiled softly.  
"As will I."  
He felt his father hand rest upon his shoulder.  
"Truly Legolas?"  
He looked up and met his father's eyes with honesty.  
"Yes, truly, " he looked away towards the trees." It is as you said. Some do distrust me and with them I will need to work to prove myself to be as they once thought me, and there are others who are uneasy in my company and not only because I have been out in the wider world. In their case familiarity will probably prove the remedy; if I seem to be unchanged then in time they will forgive or forget depending upon their temper. For the rest there is curiosity and hesitation, some rumour has certainly been at work, but that will fade in time."  
"And for yourself?"  
"Ah well that might prove a slower process, but if I wish to remain here then it is one I must weather."  
"Do you wish to remain? You know my feelings on the matter."  
He nodded.  
"Yes I wish to remain. If you are proved right and the darkness returns I would be here to fight it as our people prince if I can, so the healing must be done now, on all sides."

Thranduil's hand dropped from his son's shoulder and he smiled, inclining his head slightly. He spoke softly.  
"Then I suggest you go and prepare yourself, for if you will be prince again, and I would have you be, today must be the start and your current dress would hardly pass for a guard captain."  
Legolas looked down at his practice clothes with a wry smile for they were still liberally streaked with the dust gathered when he and Theringer had wrestled each other to the ground for the last practice arrow before the feast. He nodded,  
"No doubt your steward has already given orders as to my choice of raiment."  
Thranduil gave a short laugh.  
"Do not doubt it, as he has already ordered mine I do not think he will have overlooked you."

Legolas grinned and walked towards the door, there he turned and stared back towards his father for a moment where he stood in the sun shafting through the trees watching his people prepare, unconcerned by evil for the first time in many centuries.  
"My Lord, "he said softly, feeling a sudden tightening in his throat as his father turned with a sudden unguarded look of anxiety.  
Legolas inclined his head and raised his hand to heart before extending it towards his father and king with open palm.  
"May I wish you a joyful and peaceful feast day," he smiled again, "even allowing for thirty at the kissing bough?"  
The look of anxiety faded and Thranduil returned the gesture, his answering smile suddenly brighter than the winter sun.  
"To you also my wandering son returned."


	9. Chapter 9 Midwinter Ghosts

**_Characters belong to whoever international law says they do. Where this is not me I am content. For pleasure not profit._**

 ** _If the shade of Tolkein still bothers with this Earth I hope he will accept my apologies for my inadequacies in writing for his wonderful creations. It is done with deep respect._**

Authors note:

Delay is what happens when a later part of the story wants to be written ahead of its time. Apologies if this bit isn't as polished as it should be as a result.

The reader should assume that all of these conversations are taking place in the relevant language, e.g. Sindaran Elvish and that the writer has translated for you. Therefore there will be no terms to be explained.

 **Midwinter Ghosts**

It was midwinter eve and the streets of Dale were ablaze with light even though the early dusk had settled over the city several hours ago; torches burned at every doorway, braziers were already lit the public squares and bonfires burned wherever anyone could start one safely, and in some cases unsafely. Already the light had been added to by half a dozen burning buildings, for the lessons of dragon fire was beginning to fade.

The snow had started falling not long after sunset and it lay in a thickening carpet on every surface that was not being walked or sat upon, but despite it the streets were thronged with people, some on their way somewhere, others on their way back, for the days work had ended early and many had already started their celebrations. Such was the press of people in the main thoroughfares that jostling was inevitable but the good humour of the day meant that little in way of violence had so far resulted. Most of the throng were dressed in their best and their minds were on feasting and merriment with little thought for the events of the past or those to come. This was the season to enjoy the present..

The Great Hall was not yet rebuilt, and a skeleton of poles and posts still surrounded it like some giant web, but in the square before it people were gathered to watch others or to be watched and to purchase warm wine and roasted nuts to keep the chill of the night at bay. Many street entertainers, jugglers, magicians and wandering players amongst them had established their pitches early, for on this night of the year no toll was charged of them provided they were performing before sunset, and patrolling city guards kept a stern eye on things to ensure that the rules were not abused and that no arguments about the rights to a pitch disturbed the peace. The inns and other hostelries were full to overflowing for many people had come from the surrounding lands to celebrate the feast within the city, yet the crowd was largely comprised of the children of men. Each midwinter was much the same as the last, the children of men feasted and drank too much rough ale with many waking with too sore a head to enjoy the feast day itself. Perhaps for this reason the dwarves and elves preferred to keep the feast in their own lands and Halls.

But there were exceptions and in a quiet but imposing square behind the Great Hall lamps burned in the newly completed house of the representatives of the Elvenking. Faint strains of harp and flute could be heard by those passing close to its windows but no other sign of the activities of the occupants were visible from the street. For the small garrison of elves in Dale the feasting was behind closed doors and was tinged with sadness at being separated from their kin. Few of those who had no pressing need remained in the city over the winter months and many of the rooms of the great house were closed up and shrouded in dust sheets, but there were some duties that had to be fulfilled for the house was the symbol of the Woodland Realm in Dale and therefore needed to be appropriately guarded. So a pair of elven guards stood watch on either side of the impressive carved door regardless of the day or weather, their armour was silver steel, their cloaks long and warm and their faces almost obscured by their helmets. They did not look or speak to each other, their attention being directed to the few who passed them and the sounds of the city around them.

At least that was the case for three of them; the fourth was also busy with private thoughts.

This would be the seventh midwinter feast since the battle of the five armies, as it was now recorded, and since she was exiled to the city of Dale. For exile it was even if not truly banishment and she had reluctantly accepted that she would probably never return to the forest she had called home for most of her life.

The people of the city spoke of the elapsed time as if it were long but for an elf it was little more than yesterday and for her at least there could never be too many duties to be attended to. During the days of the feast she would stand as many watches as they would allow her, even the silent guarding of the door was better than hours with nothing to do but replay the past. Her only wish at this time was that it wouldn't snow during her watch. It had been far earlier in the winter when battle had come to the Lonely mountain but it had been snowing even so and the sight of snow drifting down on dark streets brought back memories that still had the power to cut like a knife. Though she cursed herself for a fool the foggy shadows of falling snow in this this square, deserted as it often was at feast time, could take on the shapes and atmosphere of that ruined street where her life had stopped.

This feast she had even more reasons to avoid the festivities, for the King ensured that those who must stay in Dale did not feel themselves to be forgotten by their kin and along with the additional deliveries of food and wine there had been gifts and messages brought from home for most of her companions. As a result of these the chatter in the guard house was alive with the news that Legolas had returned home to Mirkwood, and not all of those who knew of the events of Dale were happy with that fact or willing to absolve Legolas of fault. Something that grieved her more with each passing season, for she could no longer hide from the knowledge that she had used the kings son and his care for her to serve her own purposes and with no thought for what it might mean for him. She knew that Thranduil chose those posted to Dale carefully, and most seemed to know nothing of the affair at least when they arrived. Those who might know, or who learned of it in the streets of Dale, were circumspect within her presence; but in unguarded moments, when they did not know she was there, comments were made that could stir the memories and with them the turmoil within her.

As she took her place at the gate for the early evening watch she had much to think about and most of it contained little joy, and, as the watch settled into the usual midwinter routine, she found herself wishing for more onerous duties to distract her thoughts. Her eyes flickered over those that passed but she, like her fellow guards, had no real expectation of anything more challenging than dissuading the odd drunken reveller from trying to sleep in their doorway. The people of Dale would not think to threaten the Elvenking on this or any other night, and not only because of the guards at his gate; for all of them knew that he had turned aside from his own concerns to help them when they needed it and asked no thanks. That he had fed their children and tended their sick when their only call on him was a distant friendship. They knew too that many elves had fallen in the battle, and stand of the Elvenking and his Elf Lords was a part of the stories of that day that every man, woman and child could recount. No, no one of Dale would seek to harm the King of the wood or his people and any of his enemies arriving here would do well to keep their hostility quiet if they wanted to survive. Something she reminded herself of daily.

From the first moment she took her place for the watch it was obvious that the weather was not on her side, for snow had started to fall early in the day, a soft shifting curtain of white that piled up on walls and steps and set the few passers by slipping and sliding on their way to whatever festivities they had planned. As she looked up at the blurred sky, the stars hidden behind smoky grey clouds, she had known it was going to be a long and painful watch. Whilst people drifted by in numbers she managed to keep focussed on the present; but as the cold intensified, and the number of people passing dwindled, the past began to sit heavily upon her sending her mind back along familiar grooves to that day. To the last time she had spoken to the king.

Four of them had come for her as darkness fell and as she waited by the gates of the ruined city. Waiting for the return of the men and elves from the funeral rites in the mountain, the rites she had not been allowed to attend. Each was a member of the king's personal guard and of the four two had been amongst the six who had stood at his back when she had drawn her arrow on him.

It was the way they had looked at her that ripped the first tear in her certainties and stirred the seeds of doubt at the rightness of her own actions, for their stance spoke of hostility and, far, far worse, their eyes showed only contempt. Yet they were elves she had known all her life, warriors she had looked up to, aspired to be like in time, and seeing such looks from them shook her, for she could not convince herself that their disgust was rooted in anything other than what they had seen and heard. If they who had seen it so clearly, heard her words and those of the king, judged her harshly then how would others?

She had felt a surge of fear as they grasped her arms wondering at their intentions as she realised that these two restraining her might have been her jailors, even her executioners, had he not moved so swiftly. But they offered her no further hurt and they did not bind her as she had first feared that they would, for she did not think she could have borne the shame of being hauled through the streets like a felon. Instead they retained a discrete grip upon her arms, causing her to match at their pace and go where they wished. As she walked beside them through the snow those first shoots of doubt started to grow.

They had not spoken to her as they walked but silently brought her to where the royal tent was pitched in the ruins of the square beside the Great hall, not a stones throw from the place where she now stood. Thranduil had not been there and the three Elf Lords had taken up a position at the tent flap while the Lady had accompanied her inside to where two maids were waiting

The Lady indicated that the tent flap should be closed and when that was done she turned towards her charge, her look was cold and her voice hard.  
"Remove any weapons you may be carrying and lay them on that table."  
She had complied with the order without any protest dropping her knife and sword onto the small table indicated.  
"Remove your tunic and your boots." The command was curt.

Tauriel had felt her eyes widen in shock for she had not expected this. The Lady ignored her surprise if she saw it and indicated with a wave of her hand that the waiting maids should help her if needed. She had quickly shaken her head and proceeded to do as requested placing her discarded clothing on the table beside her weapons.  
"Extend you arms away from you body," the Lady's voice was still chilly.|  
She complied wordlessly and when she had done so the Lady spoke to the maids.  
"Search her thoroughly, and be sure she has no concealed knives or arrow tips, nor phials that might contain poison or any such thing."

Her thoughts froze at the horror of it, not at the maids touch, for that was impersonal and gentle enough, but that she had reached a point where her own were treating her as an assassin, that they truly considered she might seek to end the life of the king.  
"But is that not what you did?." Some little voice inside her head spoke up. "Why else did you point an arrow at him? Did you not intend to kill him if he turned away? If not then what was the purpose of it? What else was your intention, or was it just childish anger that he would not listen? If that were to be the case was he not justified in his actions?"

"You may resume your tunic and boots"  
The Lady's voice cut through her wondering, and she obeyed in silence. The maids were dismissed with a wave of a hand and they gathered up her discarded weapons and hurried to leave as if just being in her presence was a threat.  
"Stand to the side and wait. "  
When the tent flap was again closed the Lady came and stood before her.  
"Know this," she said in a low voice, "If the king dismisses me I will be outside and, should you give me any cause to fear your intent, I will not hesitate this time, there will be no further allowance made for your rank or history. I hold my oaths sacred and I will defend our Realm and our King as I have sworn to do, as you once swore to do. If that means I must pass judgement upon you I will do so. I do not wish to do this, to harm one of our own for any reason is abhorrent to me, as it should be to all elves. But you give me no choice for you have already shown clearly to all that you are willing to forgo duty and honour and to commit the worst of horrors. However much I may grieve it I will fulfil my duty to prevent it if you give me cause."

She had stared into the implacable face of the elf before her and shook her head, struggling to meet the cold eyes with some measure of calm.  
"Inside or out matters not, you will not be given any cause to fear my intent my Lady." She said softly, "I will threaten no harm to the King."  
For a moment the other had continued to stare at her and then she jerked her head in the direction of a chair in the corner of the tent  
"Be seated and silent until the King returns."  
Then the Lady took up a guarding stance beside the chair, bow in hand, and in silence they waited.

She had lost track of the passing time, outside the tent she could hear the sounds of the watches changing and the smell of cooking fires and food drifted on the cold air. But all was quiet, oddly so, and when a song did break out in any part of the elvish camp it was mournful and full of grief. It was as she waited for the king, hidden by a sheet of canvas from the sorrowing camp, that the full truth of the events, and her own actions, had come to her. Yet even then it had the quality of a dream. She could see his face as clearly as if he still stood before her, the grief and anger darkening the blue eyes to stormy grey, the twist of his mouth betraying how hard he was fighting for his control against the bitterness of her words and the surge of old memories of past loss. He had tried, she knew now that he had tried, to make her understand the impossibility of what she was wanted, of what she was demanding, but at the time she would not see it.

She heard his voice again.  
'Are you willing to die for it?'  
At that moment she had thought he meant to kill her and her disbelief had been immeasurable for she had never considered such a possibility, nor that she might not threaten him with impunity; it had never occurred to her that he might raise his hand to her in any way. She had been so confident that he would stay his hand, and those of his guard, that she had never thought past what she was demanding of him. The shattering of her bow had been the first axe blow to the pillars of her world and her expectations, the sudden understanding that she gone beyond excuses and that she was not above the consequences of her actions.

Yet as she sat in the royal tent the lamps flickering in the draft rising up from beneath the canvas, it occurred to her for the first time that that might not have been the meaning of his question at all, that he might have been asking her why she was waylaying him rather than risking herself to warn the dwarves. The harsh truth was that if that had indeed been the meaning of his words she had no answer to the question.

Nor had she found one since.

She had got no further for without warning the tent flap was raised and the subject of her speculations entered. She rose to her feet and stood with her head bowed as she heard him speak to the Lady beside her.  
"You may leave us." His voice was quiet and without expression.  
She heard the creak of armour as the Lady bowed and then swift footfalls as she crossed the small space and the rustle of the tent flap falling closed.

For a moment there was silence and then he spoke again.  
"Tauriel," there seemed to be a faint sigh in his voice, the hint of the winter winds of regret beyond the walls of his composure. Regret for what she could not guess.  
"My Lord," she had responded not raising her head.  
"Look at me." His voice was soft but it was clearly a command.  
She remembered so very well how her throat had tightened, and how hard it had been to both swallow and breathe as she looked up at him, not sure what she hoped for, or what she feared. Adrift as she had never been, even when she had been all alone, that loneliness and vulnerability that he had saved her from.

He was in armour and with the diadem upon his brow, his face still shadowed with grief. Never had he seemed so majestic or so terrifying. Yet looking back she could not say why that was so, for there had been no anger in his face or voice and allowing for the grief his expression had been kind. He turned and seated himself in his craved chair leaning his head back against the wood with that slight tilt that was so characteristic of his pose when he was thinking. It came to her suddenly that she was looking at the King of the Wood, and that it had been some time since she had done so. In that moment too she knew that she had lost something for ever and that whenever she saw him again, if she did, it would always be the King that she would see.

As for Legolas, she doubted that she would ever be allowed to be in his company again.

"My Lord, "she had begun, "I know that I cannot...", but broke off as he signalled her to be silent.  
"Some things are better not spoken of," he said quietly, "at least not until the cooling winds of time have blown across them," he shot her a warning look, "and some things may not be safe to speak of however many centuries have passed."  
He looked at her in silence for a moment and a new sadness seemed to shadow the blue of his eyes as he sighed again.  
"You must know that you cannot return to Mirkwood," he said softly.  
A spark of anger glowed within her at the words and she responded with a hint of her previous defiance.  
"I know that you have banished me my Lord."  
He smiled sadly.  
"Your actions were your own Tauriel, none forced them or demanded them of you. What would you have expected of me had one of your guard done the same a season ago? I gave Legolas leave to find you, to explain to you the need and give you the chance to return home with honour. You chose not to."  
"No more did your son my Lord." The words slid out from somewhere like a concealed blade she had not been aware of carrying.

His expression remained calm and still but at her words his eyes changed taking on the look of sapphire lit by winter starlight, the fire within them cold and distant.  
"No he did not," his voice was still low and gentle, "and we are both well aware of why that was. I had warned you to be careful and kind in your dealings with him, a request you ignored when it did not suit you. But we will speak no more of that, Legolas will not return home with me, and much though I hope his absence will be short I fear he will find it hard to make peace with himself." He sighed, "As for the relative nature of your offences, I had given him leave to find you; I gave you no leave to desert your post. He left with only concern for you in his heart whilst you left with no concern for your people and with bitterness and hatred in yours."

She had felt the despair growing within her as he spoke and now she could not hold back her protest.  
"My Lord, that was not so!"  
Her words brought a faint smile to his lips, the first she had seen since that day when he had spoken of his son's regard for her  
"Was it not? Then why did you leave? You have made it clear enough that you consider my life to be worthless", for a moment there was a hint of something she could not define in his face but it faded as he continued, "but did you judge all of your kin, your comrades and those who called you friend to be similarly without value? Of so little account that you would desert them in such a manner? Or did you think that love was a justification for anything no matter how dishonest and cruel?"  
The smile faded and he drew a deep breath looking at her with an expression that she could not read.  
"Did I fail you so badly, teach you so little, that you could believe that?"

She raised her chin in defiance feeling her anger push away her fear for a moment; she would not let him belittle the value of what she had done.  
"I believed that he was dying and that you did not care or wish to help! Was that so great a sin?"  
He stared back at her with no sign of remorse or guilt.  
"You think things so simple? Or that such a love the only thing to be considered," now there was a hint of exasperation in his tone." If so then I have truly failed you. We all have many loyalties and responsibilities Tauriel, and love does not change that. Mine are to my Realm, those who name me their King and to those I might need to thrust into the path of danger, to be sure that I do not do so on a whim or at the behest of one contrary to the needs of all. As a captain in the guard your duty was to those you led and you should have known that."  
She lowered her eyes before his anger and spoke softly still trying to make him understand the rightness of her course.  
"Yes, my Lord. But I meant no insult to our people or those I served with, I acted on the impulse of my heart I confess it, in that I may have been careless of my duty I admit and accept your right to punish me as you will. But I cannot regret my actions for I loved him and I believe that he loved me."

She risked raising her eyes to meet his again and was taken aback by the blaze of anger there. She watched warily as he rose from the chair and crossed the space between them to stand over her. It was a surprise how far she had to look up to see his face and it came to her that it had been a long while since he had stood over her in this way, if indeed he ever had. As he stared down at her his eyes narrowed and his voice became as harsh as she had ever heard it.  
"You gave no thought to to anything but your own wishes. Not even to the dwarf. Loved you? He was not old enough to have a beard, how then did he love you?"  
He turned away suddenly, crossing to the table beside the brazier and reaching for the flagon of wine, pouring half a cup he swallowed it in a single gulp as if he needed to do something to contain his anger. Then he slowly refilled the cup, continuing as he did so and still without looking at her.  
"I took little notice of his body upon Ravenhill, being more concerned with those closer to me. Nor did I understand Dain's accusation of entrapment and bewitching, only thinking them more provocative and foolish nonsense aimed at angering me, what else could it be for who ever heard of a dwarf so entrapped? But then today I saw him laid out in death and I understood a little more, for only a very young dwarf is without a beard. The scanty nature of his could only mean that he was some way from being full grown, far too young to be amongst Oakenshield's company by rights; far too young to know the reality of love."  
He turned towards her again.  
"All know of the importance of a dwarfs beard so he would not have removed it by choice. Did you not think it strange?"  
She had closed her eyes against the well of sorrow his words had opened up within her and her voice was nothing more than a whisper.  
"No, my Lord. I truly did not think of it."  
Not even when he had spoken of his mother's words had she thought of it. As the image of him as he lay upon the snow of Ravenhill came back to her she knew that she should have done so and wondered that she had not..

The king's voice softened again and the sadness had returned to his face as he looked at her..  
"No, I do not think you did." he said after a moment.  
Thranduil resumed his seat.  
"Dain made some mention of a token from the dwarf's mother. Do you have it?"  
"Yes my Lord," she had whispered.  
He held out his hand.  
"Give it to me, for the sake of all it must be returned."  
She looked at him again with entreaty in her eyes.  
"May I not keep it? It is all I have to remind me of why I have lost everything."  
The king looked at her with an odd expression on his face.  
"Have you lost more than she?"  
She shook her head at that and pulled the token from her pocket and placed it on the table. He looked at her with regret and his voice was kind.  
"Do not think I am being deliberately cruel, or that I wish to hurt you, but you must understand that there are more things at stake in this than a carved stone, your life amongst them."

Fear surged and with it a new sense of hopelessness.  
"My life, my Lord?"  
He nodded.  
"Yes, do not be in any doubt of the gravity of the situation. There are many ways to view the same event Tauriel.."  
He gave her a small smile and a hard look.  
" No doubt you see his attempts to save you on Ravenhill as proof of his love, a noble thing, and I am sure that there are some who would agree with you, but that is not the only view of his actions that might be taken. Dain does not view it that way, far from it. He sees the same action as his kin's dishonour. A betrayal in fact. The act of abandoning his king and his kin, an act that some might see as being a factor in Thorin's death; for had he been at his Uncle's side he might have preserved his life ."  
He took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair.  
"Dain would have the world believe that Thorin's nephews, for so it seems they were, died in the defence of their uncle and king, to have it whispered by either his friends or his enemies that one of the line of Durin left the side of that king to defend an elf is not to his liking. Nor can I entirely blame him for that, for he will face many difficulties in taking the role of King under the Mountain not least from amongst his own. "  
He looked down into his glass his face losing all expression.  
"Your existence might be seen to threaten that view of events, and he might see it as in his interests if that existence were to end..We must persuade him that there will no opposition to his version of the event."

He watched her for a moment, noting the tears in her eyes and the sorrow in her face with a sigh. When he spoke again his voice was softer still.  
"The token will be returned to his mother and she will hear how her sons died to defend their uncle against the evil they have fought in so many stories and songs. He will pass in dwarfish legend with his uncle and let us hope that will be of comfort to her. For Dain that will mean there is no need for more claims of entrapment and bewitching and so a form of peace can exist between elf and dwarf, at least at a distance. While that story remains unchallenged he will have no reason to move against you, and though he would far rather I had put you to death as a traitor he will make no remark if I do not. Other than to comment on my cowardice no doubt. But then he is nearly as mad as his cousin so little better could be expected."

The king raised his voice and called for the guard, the Lady entered quickly a knife already in her hand. She relaxed slightly on seeing the kings ease and stood patiently before him ignoring the other occupant of the tent. Thranduil indicated the stone token sitting on the table.  
"Take that and get a copy made, it need not be exact but have it made as closely as you can. I want it ready by dawn and make sure that none other than you and the craftsman know of it."  
There was no hint of surprise on the Lady's face as she took the stone without a glance.  
"Very well my Lord, you would have me bring it to you?"  
He seemed to think about that for a moment then he nodded.  
"Yes, and make sure you do not confuse the two, I must be sure which is original and which the copy."  
She nodded without further comment and left, as she did do a swirl of snow flakes blew in leaving a small trail of icy crystals across the rug. Tauriel had watched them as they dissolved feeling as if they represented all that she had ever known and loved.

When the Lady was gone the king looked towards her a hint of understanding in his face .  
"A copy may remind you as well as the original, but a mother's eye will know the difference. Make sure it is well hidden however, keep it to yourself alone.."  
The snow on the rug was all but melted when she looked at her king with despair, her voice a dull whisper no longer caring what his next words would be.  
"What then is to be my fate my Lord? Live or die, and if I live where would you have me do it? Or will you send me away as banished and take no more note of my fate."

A quiver of something that looked to be annoyance flitted across his face but it was quickly concealed behind the regal mask.  
"Have I not told you? You cannot return to our realm, for your own sake and that of others, but I will not abandon you to wander without protection. You will stay here in Dale. I have agreed to assist the men of the Lake and the City in their rebuilding, as a part of this I will provide skilled craftsmen and healers while they need them. Those elves will need somewhere to live and guards to provide for their assistance and security. I have discussed this with Bard, who will take the role of Lord of Dale at the people's wish, and he has agreed that for this purpose I will establish an elvish garrison in the City. You will join that garrison, for the moment at least. I will hold the same discussions with the master of the Lake on my way back to Mirkwood. "  
He looked down at the seal ring upon his finger and frowned slightly.  
"It is not possible for you retain your rank given what has gone before, so you must accept the rank of guard, but I will not prohibit your progression and in time you may again become a captain of the guard in Dale. Though it is not likely to be an easy hill for you to climb."  
"As My Lord wishes," she said quietly.

He looked across at her and sighed.  
"But do not think this puts you beyond all danger. It will be enough for the moment for there are many other things to occupy Dains' mind. Later, who can say, but he knows very little about you. The other dwarves could enlighten them should they chose but I think that they will not choose to do so for reasons of their own. However you would be wise to be cautious all the same. Stay within the garrison as far as possible and do not wander beyond the main thoroughfares without company. I do not wish to make things more difficulty for Bard and in the further reaches of the city he may find it hard to assure your safety. But be careful never to speak of the events on Ravenhill or even to suggest that you were there "  
For a moment she wondered if safety was what she wanted but it seemed that it was all decided.  
"And now?" she asked.  
The king rose and turned away from her, returning to the wine jug to refill a glass that was barely touched.  
"Now? For tonight you will remain close to this tent and tomorrow you will report to the garrison commander, he is expecting you."  
She swallowed as a sense of helpless loss overwhelmed her.  
"My Lord, there are other things we need to speak of, if you will hear me."  
He raised his hand to silence her.  
"I think we have said all that needs to be said, unless you wish your future to be ordered differently, but I would advise you against it. This is the best that I can do for you, for the moment at least. In time other options may present themselves but for the present the choices are slim. If you wish to leave then I will provide you with provisions, weapons and a horse, but once you depart the lands between here and the forest there will be nothing that I can do for you, for you will have chosen to be banished with all that will mean. You have my word that I will send none after you, or seek your end, but the life you would be choosing would be hard indeed and the choice would do nothing to ease your grief or regret. Is Dale not a better choice?"

There had been nothing left to say for it was clear that he was not going to allow any discussion of their confrontation, and the hard truth was that she knew there was little that she could say if he did. She cast him one last look, but he remained turned away from her, staring down into the red depths of the glass in his hand. She felt a sinking of her spirit for it was clear that he had set a barrier between them and that the few feet that separated them may as well have been the world. From this moment forward that distance would never change. He was her king and she would serve him but she doubted they would ever speak again.  
She bowed deeply towards him.  
"My Liege, it shall be as you consider best. I will serve as best I can where you command."  
Then she had slipped out of the tent to join the guards beside the fire, the snow had hidden her tears as it had done every midwinter since.

Now, seven midwinters later, standing at the gate and watching the passers-by the events of that time seemed but a dream. She could feel the weight of the token in her pocket, it had been delivered to her the day after Thranduil had commanded the copy and she kept his words in mind and carried it all times. She barely looked at now, and the memories it held were not as she had expected that they would be that day, for though she could recall very detail lof that interview with the king she found it hard to summon up the voice of the dwarf that had given it to her or to recapture her feelings as he had placed it into her hand.

The snow continued to drift down lazily and as she stared into the darkness sshe wondered how the Elvenking would celebrate the festival, would he rejoice in his son's return or fear for his safety, wondering if an assassin hid within the shadows. What of Legolas would he have found peace, he would find forgiveness with his father she was sure of that, where would her life have taken her if she accepted that when it was offered?

Another passer-by called out a greeting and she dipped her head in reply. If Legolas was back in Mirkwood would he come to find her, would his father permit that? Standing in the midwinter snow with the shadows of the past drifting all around her she realised that she hoped not.


	10. Chapter 10 Light after Darkness

**Light after Darkness**

Legolas looked at himself in the glass and smiled sadly, wondering why his appearance and his heart were at such odds. For though he looked every inch the elven prince the dark imp was stirring again determined to deny him any enjoyment of the feast. These last few days, whilst he had ridden out with the parties of elves gathering wood and foliage, the past had seemed to sit more lightly upon him, but as he had dressed for the feast day the weight of his grief and regrets were falling upon him again. With a sigh he tried to push them aside and turn his mind to the days ahead.

He scrunitised himself once more, turning this way and that and trying to recall when last he had worn anything so elaborate.

He was dressed from head to foot in green and white, the silver trims and green and amber gems on his tunic and robe glittered as he moved. His belt was a web of shimmering brown strands tipped with yellow and white like, the branch of tree about to flower, and his boots were the deep red of spring beech sap. With a sigh he straightened his tunic and adjusted the lace on the high collar of his undershirt to make a more graceful fall. The gems stitched to the lace gave off a blue white fire as he did so, sending dancing slivers of light across the walls of the room. For a moment he watched the dancing lights as he turned his head first one way then the other wondering why quite so many gems had been deemed necessary to his dignity, they were even stitched into the tops of his long boots. Footwear that felt a little stiff after years of soft shoes or well worn riding clothes.

Oh yes he looked every inch the prince he was supposed to be. Yet the feeling of being an impostor persisted and the dark imp was lurking, waiting for the opportunity to spring up with its cries of 'unworthy' if he dropped his guard against it.

As he looked down at the two feet of velvet trailing behind him he wondered just how much splendour the stewards had conjured up for his fathers dress if this was considered necessary for their prince. But then his father was their King and therefore most accustomed to it, no realm wished their Lord to wander about dressed as if on route to the practice halls.

Legolas pulled at the sleeves of his undershirt smoothing the white silk over his forearms and wrists, smiling at the soft feel of the fabric beneath his fingers. Full formal dress was something he had not worn since the spiders came and their festivals became more sombre and hurried. In those years he had always dressed less lavishly and in such a manner as to allow him to take up his bow and head into the forest at a moments notice. For many years he had left it to his father to provide the majesty expected in honour of the days of feasting.

But for the moment the darkness had withdrawn and peace had settled across the forest. Now there was no need for such restraint. The people would be watching him closely, considering the splendour of his attire an indication of his fathers regard for him but also as a statement of the current security of the Realm. Without the advantages of the elven rings held by Galadrial and Elrond the Woodland Realm had to rely on more prosaic measures for its security, providing many of which required some measure of material wealth. Of which his dress was a proof. Armour, and metal for swords and lances, had to be paid for after all.

Legolas frowned as his thoughts veered off on an old and familiar track, and one that had deepened during his recent travels. For close on a millenia his people had been living alongside the growing darkness, fighting it when it encroached upon their safety. Century after century of it, spiders, orc packs, marauding dwarfs and landless men had all threatened them, and his father, and his people, had fought them largely alone, with little help from outside their relam, not even with arms or essential supplies that might ease their necessity. No wizard's magic had been given to shelter them and they had received little help even from their kin. There was little that Lord Elrond could have done perhaps, for the Misty Mountains seperated them and they were high and unforgiving much of the year, but even so it often seemed what efforts could have been made were not forthcoming. As they moved further north what little help they had received in the early days had withered. The Lady of the Golden Wood had kept watch upon the dark fortress but that was as far as her action had extended, and given that Lothlorien was closer to the site of the evil than his father's Halls that could be seen more as self interest than any desire to assist those who fought its spreading evil on a daily basis. With few illusions about the support he was likely to receive from others his father had steered them through the hardships by dint of his own power and his experience of the wars and fallen realms of the past, and he had known more than one of those.

Once they had crossed the Mirkwood Mountains and built their current fortified halls contact with the other elven communities had further dwindled, though the lines of communication remained open and couriers passed between them when weather permitted it. But increasingly the occupants of Lothlorien retreated from the world, for the Lady and Lord Celeborn could close their borders to all but those she knew or favoured, and their land, small though it was, was a place of beauty and peace.

For his father such a choice was not possible, however much his people might have wished for it, and those who could pay for passage down the elvish roads, by far the shortest way to the Anduin from the lands to the east, or the forest river, had to be tolerated for the tolls they paid, even if they were not always welcomed. The hard truth was that they lacked the luxury of choosing who they would associate with and trade had been vital even in the darkest days.

But not in Midwinter, this feast, and that of the Elvan New Year, were always the most joyous for then the forest that his people loved was not troubled with passing strangers.

Legolas looked at himself in the glass one last time and sighed, for all the glory of his finery something was still missing, and in many ways it was the most important thing of all. With another, and deeper, sigh he crossed the room and picked up the silver circlet from its' resting place on the table before the window and weighted it in his hand. The twisted silver strands were carved like intertwining branches with intricate chasing representing flowers and leaves along their length; it bore no gems, only his father's was so adorned, but it was a thing of beauty all the same. Heavier than it appeared too, its weight so carefully balanced that it would sit upon his brow without slip or movement however he turned his head. He smiled to himself in a sudden surge of memory, how well he recalled the days he had spent with the silversmiths making this circlet, sitting patiently as they perfected its balance and fit.

His smile died as he looked down at it, caressing the engraving with a hesitant thumb. It was a statement of his rank, and his by right of his birth, and yet he hesitated to put it on. As he looked at it he felt the weight of the events of that day in Dale fall like a leaden cloak upon his shoulders once again and though he fought to push away the memory it seemed stronger than ever, the shimmer of the silver turning red before his eyes. The sound of the festival preparations outside the window were replaced by the baying of the horn as his father recalled his splintered companies and the flickering fire from the jewels on the silk at his wrists took on the shape of the orc blood and the snow upon his father's blade as he bore it down. His stomache knotted on the memory, the anger in her voice came back to him as she hissed 'no love in you' at her king, and the image of the shock on her face as her bow was splintered. The knot grew tighter as he heard himself defend her, the cold fury in his voice at the father who had not sought the confrontation. He spun away from the glass, unable to bear the sight of himself as he recalled the look upon his father's face, a look of immeasurable loss, and the fear that his son was lost to him.

And for what? That was the question that he feared he would always ask himself, for he could no longer feel himself to be justified in his actions.

He knew now how many had died that day, both on the plain and in the city, and the number of the others they had lost as consequence of those deaths. He knew that he would always wonder if he could have saved any of them had he remained with his father's army rather than foresaking them to follow her to Ravenhill, just as he knew very well the futility of such wonderings. Yet still the memories and the doubts refused to be quiet, requiring only a little prompting to resume their torment of him. Perhaps if he had achieved something other than the death of Bolg that day it would have been easier but he had not, the dwarf Thorin had died anyway, as had the dwarf that ….she…. had gone to save, and perhaps because of her.

For a moment he wondered if she had yet realised that, and how she coped with the pain and guilt if she did.

He shook his head to push back the memory, asking the Valar for peace if only for the festival time and for the sake of his father and their people. Someone must have heard for the memory retreated, yet it left the familiar sense of being unworthy behind it.

Legolas turned the circlet in his hands again watching the light play across the burnished silver, wondering if any one would notice if he left it behind. He laughed silently at himself, of course they would and many rumours and whisperings would follow on from it. He owed it to his father to avoid such things and yet he stood undecided as the moments passed, still unable to place it upon his head.

His reverie was curtailed by a knock upon the door.  
"Come." He called out glad to break the train of dark thoughts.  
He had expected the steward or a maid but it was his father who stood in doorway now dressed for the feast. Legolas looked at him wide eyed, he had been barely past his majority the last time he had seen his father in full regalia for a winter feast and he had forgotten how truly majestic his parent could be. For a moment he could do little more than stare.

For once his father wore no mail coat, a sign of the day and the changed times and an indicator that none other than his own people would be at the feast, and his long tunic was silver stitched in deep green with swirling patterns of leaves and vines. The green stitching was darker than that of his son's finery and the patterns were more elaborate, and the hem of the tunic was weighted down with white, red and green gems. The upstanding collar reached to the base of the king's skull, but it left his throat bare and was fastened with an ornate pin of silver and gold twisted together like the sun shining over a field of snow. That collar was of white lace, like Legolas's own, and stitched with white gems in the same way; and the King's pale gold hair fell over it like a wave, Beneath it he wore pale blue hose, also stitched with green and silver and over them green boots, long as was his custom, their tops decorated with gold stitching and set with silver and white gems. Around his waist was a belt made of a mesh of dull silver studded with more green and blue gems, and though he wore a sword it was of a more ornamental form than was his usual choice, the scabbard sleeved in gem studded velvet. His robe was white and silver brocade, its' lining the blue and gold of the winter sun and sky, and the train stretched three feet or more behind him. In his hand he held his wooden staff, today twined with ivy into which white and red berries had been fixed.

But it was his crown that held his son's attention. It was tradition that the king himself decorated his midwinter crown before the rise of the sun on the feast day, and in the past Legolas had seen it as an indictor of his parent's assessment of the year soon to pass. This year there was no wormwood, no blackthorn and no ivy, instead the dark wood of winter was wrapped in deep and glossy green fir and holly leaves and trimmed with red and white berries and small winter flowers. But one thing was the same as ever, for each leaf and berry was touched with snow, and from the points of the circlet icicles hung in shining shards.

Legolas was immediately transported back in time, he had never known how his father managed it and as an elfling he had so much wanted to wear icicles upon his own head, and had made many attempts to make such a crown for himself. Each attempt had ended with a scolding as the ice dripped cold and wet upon his festival finery. One year, overcome by the frustration, he had waited until his father had been in deep conversation with a member of the elder council and had snatched the crown from his head running off with it down the line of feasting people before he could be caught, setting upon his own head and holding it in place with a small cold hand. How great had been his disappointment when the ice began to melt, and when his father had appeared and, catching him up in strong arms, had removed the dripping crown and replaced it on his own head with a laugh. How great had been his son's awe when the ice reformed and held its nature once he did.

Thranduil cast Legolas a quizzical look.  
"Something is amiss?" The king asked.  
"No, not at all. You look suitably magnificent."  
His father shrugged with a small smile.  
"It is part of wearing the crown, and certainly not the most onerous part."  
Legolas smiled back and asked on impulse.  
"How do you keep the snow and ice in place and prevent it from melting? I have always wondered."  
The question earned him another smile, this one openly sly.  
"Ah, a king's secret. One day I may share it with you, but not today."  
Legolas smiled.  
"Since I have no ambition to wear your crown I can wait."  
Something flashed though his father's eyes but was gone so quickly Legolas was not sure he had not imagined it, and his father was smiling as he reached out to catch Legolas's arm in a warm, grip.  
"Yet I recall an elfling who wanted to wear it very much indeed. But there are other secrets I would share first, however today is not the time for any of them, today is for celebrating the turning of the darkest part of the year towards the light, and the hope that the world will match the year in that turning."  
Legolas returned the smile and turned his hand to grip his fathers arm.  
"Let us hope that it does. The darkness has plagued us long enough."

A hint of sadness entered the king's expression and his voice held a sigh in its depths.  
"Indeed it has, and has cost us much. Yet the price could have been higher still and we have weathered all the storms, so let us all take this time to rest and remind ourselves of the strength of our love of the forest and our kinship."  
When his son said nothing but just gave him a small smile he tightened the grip on the arm he still held.  
"Do not berate yourself today Legolas, enjoy the feast. Be joyful for our people's sake if you cannot manage it for your own; do not let them think you are sad for your return. I know you have not yet made peace with yourself, and I know there are those that still look at you with uncertainty, perhaps a few with hostility, but the difficulties can be over come. Will be overcome in time. Trust will be won even from those who trust least."  
"You have no doubt of that?"  
"None at all; I, too, have known what it is to lose faith in life, in myself, but it can be survived and put behind you in time. You are my son and as I found my way through the darkness so will you."

With that he reached out and took the circlet from his son's hand and placed it upon his head.  
"For them Legolas, if not for yourself, for they played no part in your hurts and should not be expected to share in the price of your choices. The darkness has not been defeated and we may need all our trust in ourselves and each other sooner than it may now seem. Let them find peace and joy while they may and do not burden them with doubts that are not of their making."

Legolas raised his hand to grasp his father's as it adjusted the circlet upon his head.  
"Is that the price of a crown then? To always be strong? To always be certain?"  
Thranduil looked at him seriously.  
"Yes, some part of it. For if I am not strong and certain, I who know much more than they by virtue of being King, how can they trust in me? You know this to be true between soldiers and their captains, how much more is it so between the people and their King? Neither I, nor you as my son, can allow our personal grief or fears to shape our wider actions."  
He saw the look on his son's face and smiled softly.  
"Though we may make mistakes Legolas, and all do, we must recover from them as quickly as we can and keep them as far as possible to the knowledge of those who know us well enough to understand the regret."

Another knock at the door broke the mood of the moment and Legolas released his grip on his father's hand as he called to the new comer to enter. The King's equerry stuck his head around the door, a harassed look upon his face that smoothed as he saw both King and Prince in the same place.  
"My Lords, the day progresses and your attendance is required. The fires are lit and soon the tribes of elfling's will be here to deck the feast tables, many are already here and others too, not only the proud parents of the tribes of little ones either. The people will be looking for your presence soon."  
He cast a considering looks over the pair and nodded in apparent approval.  
"Might I suggest the Prince makes his appearance first, perhaps a cup of wine or two with the elders of some of the outlying communities and a little admiration of their elflings costume and manners would be a good start."

He stood back and held the door wide. King and Prince exchanged slightly rueful looks and made their way to join him.

XXX

The day of midwinter was the first day of feasting, the full feast lasting until the next phase of the moon, but for many it was the only day they would give themselves entirely to pleasure. By the evening of the second day some of the normal duties had to be resumed, for children had to be washed and fed, animals needed to be tended to, and food and medicines had to be prepared. But that first day was a day of rest and pleasure for all. Once the great fires were lit before the Halls and the tables laid around them were piled with bread and cakes and with jugs of wine and spiced berry juices. Only then did the formalities of the day begin.

Legolas had done his duty as had been suggested, wandering through the kin groups settled around the fires and the smaller ones set further out into the woods. Many of these elves he had known from the day of his birth and they welcomed him as a loved and valued lord, telling him of their joys and sorrows of the past few years, introducing him to those newly entered maturity and asking him of the things he had seen during his travels. It was like being taken back in time, falling into a sparking summer river, whose sun warned waters swept him back to the days before the coming of Throin Oakenshield and the harm that had followed from that. In these eyes he saw no questions, no doubts only interest and kindliness and respect. He heard his father's words in his ears as he talked,  
'do not burden them with doubts that are not of their making' and he heeded it, his stories of his travels were all of the length of the road and contrariness of the weather, of strange animals and birds and unusual food and drink, of mountains capped in sunlight and great lords in sturdy, well mannered cities. He never claimed he was sent as his father's emissary but if most took that message away he did not correct it. Where a dance sprang up he joined in whirling many a village girl shy in her new found majority through a reel, or showing a village elfling a better way to hold his new bow.

In the quiet moments he found himself considering these people who called him Prince, for they were drawn from many tribes. Few of the Elf Lords who had come over the mountains from the west remained in the world now; many had fallen in the last alliance and most of the remaining had left for the ships. Now more than three thousand years into the third age only one Elvenking remained, his father, and with each passing season more of the remaining elves of the lands to the east of the Misty Mountains placed themselves within the lordship of the King of Mirkwood. For the Sylvan elves and their valley and mountain kin the choice was stark, either return to the lordless and scattered state they had known before the coming of the Sindar Elf Lords or look to the Elvenking for unity. Yet their loyalty was as fierce and unswerving as those who had first taken Oropher for their King. A loyalty they found returned a hundred fold, for Thranduil understood loyalty, his line was drawn from those who halted their journey west in the search for their lost lord, whose loyalty to that lord kept them from following the Noldar to Valinor as they had wished to do. No, his father's line had never failed any test of friendship or loyalty, even in the face of the wrath of the cursed sons of Feanor, and he would never fail these elves who put themselves within his dominion. No more then would his son.

As he stood there beneath the winter trees with the light of the fires flickering across the snow, he promised himself that his loyalty would be no less, and that whatever else he might be in his life he would always be a Wood Elf in some part of his heart.

The day passed in uninterrupted peace and joy, this year there was no horn, no call to arms against an orc pack or spiders. Thranduil appeared as the sun strengthened and led the procession through the wood to the clearing of the great oak and the shrines of Eru and Varda where they knelt in contemplation before the King read out the thanks of the people for the resting forest, for its gifts to them, and their prayers for the return of spring and the renewal of all life. Then they fanned out amongst the trees and decked them with ribbons as they sang songs of the days of bliss beneath the stars while the children decorated the shrine itself with the fruits of winter. As they did so their King sat in silent meditation before the shrine, his gaze lost somewhere in the circles of world past or future, and what he did or did not see he never shared with any, not even his son.

That concluded they returned to the Elvenking's halls and gathered around the fires, newly stocked with feast boughs, to eat roasted nuts and fruits and share gifts and greetings. When that was finished Thranduil did his duty at the kissing bough and blessed the couples coming forward to declare their intent to marry, and in more than one case declare themselves already married.

As Legolas watched the couples stand before the king it occurred to him that his father was not the only one amongst their people who believed that the time of their peace would be short lived, and that many a babe would be close to entering the world at the time of the next midwinter feast. As he saw the joy in the faces of those preparing to found new families he wondered if there would ever come a feast time when he would stand before his father to announce his pledge to a wife as yet unseen and unknown That he had made one terrible mistake in matters of love was something else that also weighted upon him, for he feared making such an error again. Elves were supposed to know when they had met their one, how then had he been so wrong? But that was something else not for this day and he pushed that thought back under the cloak of forgetting, for the moment at least.

As the noontime was passed he moved again through the gathered tribes of woodland elves, greeting those he had not seen since his return and hearing the news of the communities further from his father's halls. Time slipped passed with him barely giving a thought to the source of his absence and something close to peace settled upon him.

Thranduil watched closely whenever Legolas came within his sight, worried that something might be said that would send his son back into the pit of doubt and despair. But even those who the king knew to be most disapproving of the Prince's conduct were minding both their tongues and their looks, and if they avoided him it was not in any way that could be noted. So the remainder of day light passed peacefully, if not quietly, and both King and Prince managed more enjoyment than either would have expected when winter first began.

Night came swiftly and the heavens smiled upon them, for no cloud obscured their beloved stars which shone cold and white above them. For a while the fires were allowed to die down as the assembled company gathered in their family groups to remember those now passed to the west or to Mandros and to offer up their prayers that someday they would be reunited beneath these stars.

As evening passed into darker night lanterns were lit in the trees and new fires were conjured in the aisles and glades beneath the trees. Long tables were brought out which were soon laid with platters of all kinds, flagons of wine and water and warm spiced cordials.

Beneath the tallest beech, a tree that dated to before the coming of the Sindar lords to the Greenwood, his father's table was set. As the elves of the wood settled themselves Legolas crossed to his father table and looked around him, there was no sign of the king but then he probably wouldn't appear until all others were settled. He wondered about going in search of him but then decided not to, for no doubt he was about some official, but probably tedious, business even on this day.

Instead he lingered just beyond the light of the lamps listening to the chatter of the mass of elves, as raucous in their way as the flocks of rooks at sunset. His eyes wandered over the table before him and he smiled as he saw that the tall wine cups they generally used were joined by much smaller cups ,knowing what it meant. The King truly intended this day to be a celebration for these cups were meant only for his favourite vintage, a heady drink that had to be brought many miles on perilous roads and rivers, and that was only ever served at the King's table, though Galion had been known to sample more than a drop of it if the chance presented itself.

His smile died and he pushed the wine cup away from the place that had been laid for him as he recalled that Galion and the keeper of the keys had been under the influence of this very wine the day the dwarves escaped from them, with such terrible consequences for all. For a moment the chatter and the lamps faded and he was back in time beside a river telling her that his father would forgive and that she could return home, but she had not returned and such evil had flowed from that refusal. He shook his head at his own thoughts refusing to let them go any further and vowing once again that he would not think of it. He looked back down at the table and with a slight smile he pulled the cup back into its place beside his plate, how foolish to blame the wine or even the two who drank it, for Throin's greed and recklessness, or for her infatuation.

"Legolas?" The word was a question.  
He looked up and realised that the noise of the company had quietened and that his father had arrived and was standing beside him, and though he was smiling slightly there was the all too familiar look of concern in his eyes. Legolas smiled back bringing his hand to his heart in a gesture of love and welcome, the gesture was returned but the anxious look did not fade.  
"Is anything amiss? "The king asked quietly.  
Legolas let his smile widen and forced a note of ease into his voice.  
"Nothing at all, I was merely remembering Galion's love of Dorwinnion and wondering how much he will manage to sink this night. Who have you charged with getting him safely to his bed?"  
The anxious look faded and Thranduil shook his head with a slightly malicious smile.  
"No one, perhaps if he spends a winters' night under a table it will teach him to be more circumspect."  
"Has it ever done so before?" Legolas asked with a laugh.  
His father shook his head with a rueful look.  
"Not noticeably, but it at least allows me the illusion that I am trying to improve his conduct."

With that he turned to face the throng of elves, all now standing and looking towards him, and spreading his arms out he bowed to them and wished them the joy of the feast His voice seemed to carry out across the forest without him making any effort, his words carrying to even the most far flung table. There was a swirl of green and brown and a star lit flash of festival gemstones as they all they returned the gesture with a far deeper bow. Then, as their king sat, followed by his son and the Elf Lords also seated at his table, the assembled company sank back onto their seats and began to fill their cups and plates.

The stars continued to burn bright above them as the night wore on and the sound of the rising wind in the bare branches was joined by harp and lute as the musicians began their rounds. A small group of the most able established themselves not far from the Kings table and made no move to circulate. Legolas caught his father looking at them more than once with a thoughtful look, which seemed odd to him for there was nothing to complain of in their skill. Then he forgot the matter and settled down to enjoy the food and wine, any remaining unease he might have felt soothed away by their music.

The fires had burned lower and the moon was high when Thranduil gestured for one of the musicians to approach, she came willingly enough but with a look of faint uncertainty on her face. Legolas noted this realising that whatever was in his fathers mind it had not been planned. As she came to stand beside him he smiled at her reassuringly complimenting her on her playing. She returned the smile the pleasure shining in her eyes and when he gestured towards the small hand harp she held she gave it to him readily. For a moment he seemed undecided and then he smiled at her again and ran his finger over the strings. She looked at him in confusion and his smile widened and he gestured to one his guard to find her a seat. When she was settled somewhat uneasily beside him, he ran his fingers over the strings again but this time the resulting sound was clearly a melody. The musician looked at him in surprise and as he tilted his head in a silent question she nodded and sat back more comfortably in the chair.

Legolas had forgotten how accomplished a musician his father was for he had rarely heard him play since the darkness had begun its assault upon the forest, but he must have played somewhere for it was soon clear he was in no way unpractised. Unpractised fingers could not have drawn such haunting sound from the strings of this small harp, and haunting it was indeed. It took him a while to recall the melody but when he did it brought a smile of true joy to his face for this very song was the one his father had always had played to him to help him sleep after a nightmare. As the last notes melted away into the darkness his father looked at him enquiringly and he nodded, silently assuring his parent that he remembered.

But the silence was not allowed to stretch and as those notes failed so they were replaced by others as his father moved on to other songs, each of them old and drawn from the days in the west before the Sindar came east into the Greenwood. Caught up in the music he either did not notice, or did not care, that the elves around him had fallen silent and that the musicians closest had set down their instruments. Legolas watched him closely seeing the slight sadness that always came when he played the music of the days of Doriath. Then suddenly, as if recollecting the present, he changed the song, this time the notes spreading out into the trees were a Sylvan lullaby telling of the days before the sun and moon, before the coming or the darkness and its wars, when they wandered beneath the stars in peace and joy. Thranduil looked towards the musician beside him and inclined his head as if in question. With a smile she nodded and began to sing her voice pure and sweet and yet powerful, matching to the song of the harp as the sound of the river duets with the rustling of the summer trees.

No more uncertainty existed in the singer mind and as the king changed the tune she followed him, this time an anthem to the woods and the life they lived within it, and now to Legolas's surprise his father voice joined that of the singer, it had been a long time since he had heard his father sing and just as he had forgotten how well his father could play so he had also forgotten how beautiful his voice was. The musician smiled in pleasure as the deep, rich notes of his father's voice mingled with her own and she abandoned any hesitation she might have earlier felt and joined him wholeheartedly, the joy of the duet shining in her eyes. Legolas leant forward to watch his father face, his expression as softened as his son had ever seen it, the admiration of the skill of his singing partner openly shown in his smile and his willingness to follow where she led when a new variation on the melody occurred to her.

Then suddenly his father eyes were on him, and though the tone of his voice was unchanged there was a quizzical look in his eyes that it took his son a moment or two to interpret. When he did his own eyes widened and he felt a constriction in his throat as panic gripped him, but the blue eyes watching him were steady and their intention was clear enough. With a slight shrug he drew a deep breathe and joined his father and the minstrel in the song. His voice was not the equal of his fathers but he knew it was sufficient for the songs that would be required and as the musician smiled at him and the approval shone in his father look he relaxed allowing himself to enjoy the song, to remember with pleasure the days when he had sung this before. Then the song changed again, this time to a lament for those lost, to a prayer of thanks for their lives and sacrifices, a song the king had brought from the west but adopted by the woodland elves on the death of his father. There was a sheen of tears in the kings eyes as he sang for he had sung this song at the memorial service for his own father, and for the many they had lost in the battles of the Last was not surprised when those of his fathers guard seated around them joined in and as the lament wound towards its close Legolas realised that most of the adult elves had joined them in the song.

But the mournful mood was not sustained and as the last notes of that ode faded his father began a more cheerful ditty of forest life, and within one chorus the voices of the massed company of elves had overtaken the voices of the king and his companions. Then Thranduil bowed his head towards the minstrel and handed the harp back to her. She bowed deeply in return, the joy in her eyes still shining like the stars themselves.

As she made to stand he reached out and put a hand upon her arm, bidding her to sit where she was for a while; when she did he reached out and poured her a glass of his favourite wine. As she sipped it he reached forward and drew some of the greenery and berries that decorated the table from their ribbons and with a few deft flicks of his fingers he fashioned them into a circlet. Then he reached up and drew a strand of white berries from his crown and wove it into the green before leaning forward and placing the result upon the minstrels head with a smile.

Legolas watched her walk away to rejoin her group with pleasure, for she shone as brightly as the moon, and he wondered how many feast days would equal this one for her.

He turned his attention back towards his wine but he caught his father's eye upon him again, the expression calm and happy, and returned the look with a smile; he knew that the shadow had not truly left him but for the moment that did not matter, for tonight the joy in his heart was real.


	11. Chapter 11 Return to Duty

**Return to Duty**

The full moon rising above the forest brought the end of the feasting and the return to the hard days of a Mirkwood winter. Those elves still remaining at their king's Hall now packed up their belongings and set out for their villages, or settled down to spend the rest of the winter in the settlements clustered around the end of the forest path. This year there were more doing the latter for the winter promised to continue as harshly as it had started.

Thranduil stood and looked out over the cold forest watching the sliver lamp in the skies, and its smaller sentinels, overtaken by a dark veil of cloud whose size and shape promised more snow by dawn, and debated with himself. His custom was to ride out after the midwinter festival and inspect their boundaries, to assess the damage already done by the winter to the villages, roads and riverbanks and note where more could be expected; though repairs could not be undertaken before the spring returned there was always much to be prepared during the later months of winter. In the days before the battle at the Lonely Mountain he would have shared this task with Legolas, he would have ridden one half of the boundary and Legolas the other. During his son's absence he had ridden it all himself, which, by virtue of the time it had taken, had meant less time to prepare. Now Legolas was returned it would be a relief to share the load again but the king was unsure that his son was yet ready to undertake such a journey, one that would take him into many of their more isolated communities. A journey that would perhaps leave him with too much time to dwell on things he could not change.

Yet if he did not ask him to resume this task how might he interpret the fact?

He sighed and wished, not for the first time, that he had paid more heed to Elrond's warnings on the subject of taking homeless children into his house or at least listened to them a little more carefully. Whilst he could not regret his actions on her behalf, for her mother's mother's sake if no other reason, it might have put him on his guard had he given them more thought. He did most wholeheartedly wish that he had paid more attention to the dangers sooner than he had, and yet what would he have done if he had seen them? Could he have predicted the nature of the thoughts and feeling being stored up without sign or warning? No he did not think he could, not sooner, and by the time he understood the depth of the harm done it was perhaps already gone beyond being repaired, certainly her conduct in Dale suggested that was the case.

He felt the pain welling up again at the memory and pushed it away, looking down at his clenched fist where it rested on the balustrade and cursing the clarity of elven memory. So, she would have killed him, why take so much hurt from that fact, he was no tender child after all. Had he not walked the world long enough to ignore such slights, certainly when he understood their cause?

Perhaps so, but he had never hidden from disagreeable truths and he knew that an echo of this hurt would live with him for many centuries yet. He had fought the desire to lash out and hurt in return once that first terrible pain had been pushed aside, struggled to be fair and compassionate to those whose unmanaged emotions endangered more than themselves, to seek no revenge. For the most part he thought that he had succeeded, though it had brought no easing of his his own distress. He knew that with more than five millennia of living accomplished it would not become him to behave like a spoilt child, but he also knew that he had the right to this pain and so he did not berate himself for it, merely acknowledged it and buried it under other thoughts and his duties to those whose lives he governed.

Speaking of which..

With another sigh he pulled his thoughts back from what was gone and could not be changed to the immediate needs of his Realm and his son and the matter of the boundary inspections.

So did he do the full tour of inspection as he had been forced to these recent winters or risk sending Legolas out onto the road alone knowing that he was still very far from being reconciled with himself? Nights on the road could be woefully lonely, as he knew only too well, so how would Legolas fare with only the trees to talk to, trees that he maintained he could no longer hear? Thranduil frowned at the moon, so many things to be weighed; true he could chose his guard with care but could not summon back the easy camaraderie his son has once shared with others, not whilst that son refused to accept the possibility of regaining it. There were one or two of his closest friends with whom some semblance of normality appeared to have been resumed but the number was small, far too small to make up the entire party, and would even that survive the constant pressure of others less generous presence? Leglolas was right that many, even those who did not know the details of Dale, now viewed him with some uncertainty. Yet without a push of some form was his son going to move past the barriers of sorrow and guilt that currently held him prisoner?

For a moment he wondered if she had always intended to cause this much pain, if this had been her revenge for her anger. He smiled bitterly into the darkness, it would almost be better to assume that she had, at least that way he could see some reason for it. Yet in his heart he knew that was not the case for she lacked the ability to see so far, nor was the matter the doing of some passing fate, for any sprite worthy of the name would have found something far less banal than this mess of childish dreaming to test them with. But test it was and he must find the best way through for all concerned, for no one else was going to do it.

Thranduil sighed and rested his elbow on the ledge dropping his chin into his hands, feeling the crown shift upon his head as he did so.

On balance he felt it would be better to resume sharing this task with Legolas, to behave as if his travelling had been nothing more than a duty set him. His report of those travels was not yet complete and he could finish what remained on the journey, that should keep him occupied during the hours of darkness; he made a note to himself to ensure that enough lamps were provided to serve that purpose. He frowned in thought, if he added a round of inspections of the old spider nests and the surrounding areas to ensure their continued desertion then that should be enough to keep him occupied when the boundaries did not. As for his companions, he would have to make what shift he could, there were probably enough of the guard who knew little of the events in Dale, or who had absolved Legolas of blame, to make up his personal guard, as for the rest he would make his wishes clear and expect them to raise no difficulties while on the road and about the Kings business.

Thranduil's thoughtful frown deepened as another consideration came to him; the matter of the route and area to set. It would not be wise to send him either north or east, for that route would bring him closer to those places where the sources of his grief were found. Certainly it would be unwise to place him near the road to Dale, for it was clear that he had not yet come to terms with his mistakes where she was concerned. Though it seemed unlikely he would seek her out for reasons of his heart he might do so in the pursuit of answers, for he was much in need of them. But such answers, if they were forthcoming, his father did not think he was yet prepared to hear. Though he doubted that the answers would be forthcoming even should the two meet again, for it was unlikely that she had yet faced the truth of the matter herself and until she did that she could provide no comfort for either of them.

So, that was decided; he would take the north and east and send Legolas south and west, no further than the mountains though, the land to the far south must be left for a better season if not left completely. He remained undecided about whether the darkness would return to Dol Guldur, whilst he wished to believe that it was banished for good something within him whispered that the last stand against the darkness had not yet been made. No, this was not the time to test that healing wound and so the mountains would be the limit of their inspections, they would wait for further information from those closer to the grim place and he couldn't expect to hear from Celeborn until early spring. Any further word from Elrond could not be expected until the middle of spring given that for the mountain passes would be slow to clear this year and the bitter winds would ground the avain messengers that might have made it through in a milder year.

'My Lord, you sent for me." The voice of his equerry came from behind him.  
"Yes," he responded without turning, "begin preparations for the tour of inspection, I wish to be on the road before the the next phase of the moon has turned."  
"Yes, Sire, will you be undertaking a full circuit this year or does my Lord Legolas resume the task too?"  
The question seemed unstudied but Thranduil noted it with a tightening of his lips and strove to keep the expression of both his face and voice as bland as possible as he turned to face the elf hovering in the doorway .  
"My son will take up this role as before, reflect that in the provisioning. Also, he has a report still to complete so make sure he is provided with enough lamps to permit it."  
"Yes, my Lord."

Thranduil stepped back into the room picking up a map from the table holding it out to the equerry who crossed to join him.  
"These are the two routes I propose, confirm that there have been no reports that might cause a change to be needed."  
The other elf quickly scanned the markings on the map and nodded, doubting that a change would be needed for their king was always meticulous in his planning.  
"Yes my Lord, will you go North or South, for there is the matter of the toll bridge and the third rapid to consider, always a sore spot with the men of the lake, might I suggest it would be appreciated by the Master if you oversaw that inspection."  
The King nodded.  
"I agree, I will take the northern circuit and Legolas the southern. Tell the master of the guard to prepare a list of all those available for this duty and bring it to me by the afternoon of tomorrow. Also send my son to me; I think you will find him in his quarters.".  
The equerry dipped his head in response, his expression a diplomatic mask.  
"Yes my Lord."  
Then he left and pulled the door closed behind him.

The King of Mirkwood crossed the room and sat in his high backed chair before the fire, staring into the flames as he continued to turn the matter of his son's future over in his mind, His equerry was one of those who had not forgiven Legolas for his transgression in Dale, and though his king understood why and valued the loyalty behind the other elf's disdain it was not a comfortable situation, but he was determined that such loyalty would not carry a penalty to those of such a view. However much he loved his son he would not buy his peace at such cost. Even were he willing to it would be of little use whilst the boil of Legloas doubts about her remained unlanced.

He frowned at the fire. Sooner or later he was going to have to arrange a meeting between the two of them, for Legolas would not rest until he had seen her again, the only question was when and where for there was the compounding factor of Dain and his bitterness to allow for. A meeting in Dale might attract unwanted attention yet it was hard to see how it could be arranged anywhere else without drawing attention to her. He sighed deeply, he would need to ensure that any reason Legolas had to travel to Dale was genuine and easily explained if more damage was to be avoided. But there was yet time to decide the matters and considering how that might be achieved would provide him food for thought to while away the tedium of the coming journey.

Even so the time available was not endless, knowing his son's nature and mood the sooner it was done and over the better, for only then would he truly settle to walk the path back to himself. No, it would not be wise to let another year turn in waiting.

Thranduil reached out and filled his wine cup from the jug beside it sipping as he rotated possible futures in his mind; his own sense of the future was far less powerful than Elrond's but he had passed the point where he could deny that he possessed some such intuition, and that as the centuries passed it grew. Yet his certainty that the darkness would return had been with him since the moment he heard that the ring had not been destroyed. Much of the millennia since had been spent in preparing for it while at the same time praying that those same preparations were never needed. Now he was past such hope and whilst he did not think the darkness would return to the fortress this year he did not doubt that the time of its return would certainly come. They would all need to be strong when it did.

He pushed the darker thoughts away, time enough for those when the matter was resolved. As for the the meeting in Dale, spring or summer then, he could find some suitable feast or pageant in the city or Laketown to make the visit unremarkable. He frowned again as unwelcome memories stirred, keeping his son's actions equally unremarkable might take more thought and effort even in his currently chastened mood.

XXX

"So no further than the mountains?" Legolas asked.  
Thranduil nodded.  
"Yes, the weather is unlikely to be sufficiently benign to cross them with any ease at this time of year and I would rather we waited until a season when those sent will be able to move quickly and stealthily."  
Legolas nodded, he could see the sense of that. His father continued staring down at the map on the table between them.  
"Even so the winter has been harsh to date and the journey is likely to be arduous in places. I would suggest that you ride with me to the marshes and then turn south along the river to the foothills, check on the warning braziers, they were rebuilt but I fear that the rains of autumn and this winter's storms may have dislodged them, if so they will need to be repaired come spring."  
Legolas nodded, knowing that if their people did return to their outlying villages in the south of the realm the mountain bonfires might be their only way of seeking help quickly if it were needed.

The king continued.  
"A cycle of the moon should do it unless the weather closes in again, if it does then send me word. If it allows then ride west through the forest here," he pointed to a point where the trees grew more thinly, "spider colonies were established there in the darkest days and I would wish to be assured they remain deserted. Few villages lie in that area, but I would like to confirm the safety of any who might return. Then turn north and we will meet up in the clearing here," he tapped the map, "and ride back together making a more rigorous sweep of the this area, " his finger swept a circle on the edge of the road," where the nests were most densely clustered."  
Legolas nodded again and waved his wine cup towards the map.  
"Are these all the spider nests?"  
His father nodded.  
"All that are known of, no new ones have been discovered since Galadrial banished Sauron from the fortress."

Legolas gave a sad half smile and the comment.  
"So they were coming up from there as … she... believed."  
Thranduil seemed to review the matter before replying.  
"There is no way to be sure I grant you, but I doubt it, not even creatures such as they would venture close to the shadow of that place. Nor did the Galadrial's people ever speak of seeing them there or in the southern most part of Mirkwood that falls within their view. No I do not think that they spawned there, I think it is more likely that the shade of Sauron gave them confidence to emerge from whatever holes they had sheltered in, perhaps in the lands across the river or from the Gladden Fields or further north in the foothills of the Grey mountains. I do not doubt they acted as his spies and answered to his command but he may not have summoned them directly and here is no reason to believe that Dol Guldor itself was their origin ."  
Legolas frowned at his father's words, conjuring as they did one more recollection of the things he had ignored in the days he travelled after the dwarves with … her.  
"It is true that we have not patrolled so far south in centuries, and in my time upon the road I came across no one who had seen their like elsewhere, nor heard even any reports of it.."  
He sat back and sipped at his wine for a moment staring at the map, then he shook his head in confusion.  
" Why did they remain within the forest to plague us? I wondered about when I was on the road, for none had been seen in Lothlorien by Lord Celeborn's report; nor by Elrond's folk and as I said I heard no stories of them in lands to the west or south."

The king sat back in his chair and smiled at his son.  
"Little surprise there, after all where would they go? The lands to the south and east are wastelands until the borders of Rohan where the riders would have made swift work of them; and what hope did they have if they ventured west? Lothorien is not far from the edges of the forest but it is far enough for them to be seen and dealt with before they had crossed the open land, and there is nowhere there for them to hide or hunt, little in the way of prey at all and a wall of arrows and spears waiting for them at the edge of the Golden Wood assuming they reached that far, and with the river between them there would be nothing to shelter them from the stings."  
He gave a sad smile.  
"They stayed in Mirkwood because there was no where else that suited them so well."  
Legolas sighed.  
"More's the pity. So much damage done to the forest, and so much grief for our people."  
"Yes, though it is true they also played a part in keeping more dangerous enemies at bay, for I doubt that they would have hesitated to hunt Orc or wild wolf if such creatures had come within their reach, and we know they considered dwarf to be good prey. It is true that their venom did much harm but already the forest is recovering, the trees growing strong and straight again, as you will see when spring comes."

"So will they return if the shadow does?"  
Thranduil looked up,his expression grim, his eyes suddenly haunted by old memories. He spoke softly and reluctantly.  
"Perhaps, bur I fear that we might face worse foe than they would ever be if Sauron regains full power. I have seen his allies before and would not wish to repeat the experience. But if such a war comes I do not expect to be granted the choice."  
Legolas felt a shiver run through him as if some chill wind from the future had blown through the room and he nodded his own expression sombre. His father saw it and gave him a small smile.  
"All the more reason to ensure that our lands and borders are kept on good heart, and to make preparation for future war even as we enjoy the current peace."

"True, and you are sure you would not prefer me to take the eastern route so that you may inspect the mountain border?"|  
"Yes, the matter of the river crossing is something I must deal with myself, this year at least, for you do not know the new master of the lake and he might take it amiss if I send you to inspect something of such importance to him before you are formally acquainted."|  
Thranduil lowered his eyes to the maps and kept his voice soft and calm as he continued.  
" In the spring we will need to visit Lake town, and Dale too, to make sure the necessary introductions are made. A day or two in each should suffice, though Bard can be a good host and a few extra days there should be no hardship. But for now its best that you take the southern inspections."  
Legolas felt his heart lurch at the mention of Dale, he had devoted much effort to not thinking of it since his return, though he had always known he would have to return there some time. His father looked up and met his eyes steadily and with a faint smile,.  
"Do not be over concerned, for the men of the Lake and the City the battle is old news and Dale itself is much changed, many repairs have been done and much rebuilding. Ravenhill has been pulled down and replaced with a new lookout post shared between the men of Dale and the Dwarves of the Mountain You will find little to remind you of past battles.".

Legolas smiled faintly.  
"Not everything is gone though."  
Thranduil shot him a stern look.  
"No, but put that thought aside for the moment there is much work to be done before that matter needs to be confronted."  
"But you know that it must be?"  
"I know enough of you my son to have no doubt of it."  
Legolas looked down at the map again his eyes following the track of the Road towards the lake and the city of Dale. He spoke softy.  
"You will not prevent it? If you were to prohibit it I would not disobey, on that count I have caused enough pain and I would not cause you more."  
His father smiled slightly towards the bent head seeing the place at which his son stared. His own voice was heavy with resignation.  
"It would cause you pain not to go, and that would hurt me as much. No, I will not prohibit it, all I would ask is that you wait until an agreed time and take all the precautions asked, for the matter is not as straightforward as it might appear."

Legolas looked up with a frown.  
"So you have suggested, yet I do not understand why that should be so. Why it should be a matter of such seriousness you seem to consider it."  
His father reached forward and began to roll up the map keeping his eyes on the action of his hands as he replied.  
"I will explain when the time is right, but for the moment concentrate on the task in hand and leave other matters until we return."

XXX

The snow lay heavy along the road for there had been further falls since the last thaw and the wind had piled it against every tree and bush and filled in every hollow and rut, making the road seem beautifully smooth, an image that was very deceptive. Careful for their horses legs, and the wheels of the carts that followed behind them, their progress was necessarily slow and though the cold did not bother the riders unduly they knew that it was a trial for their mounts. As the light held the company wended their way with elven patience knowing that once they turned into the shelter of the forest a faster pace would be possible, and for the moment they were happy enough to enjoy the beauty of the winter world around them.

A world in which they seemed to be the only living things, for other than the wind and the occasional head tossing snort from one of the horses silence reigned and there was no obvious sign of life to be seen..It was clear that no one had passed this way since before the midwinter feast and the only tracks were that of the forest animals, mainly the larger ones for most of the small would be hidden down in holes or sleeping in well padded nests.

They had parted from his fathers party where then road headed out across the marshes towards the lake and they had now reached the point where all sight of them was lost Legolas pulled his hood further down over his face as much to ease the glare as against the wind for the sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, only the indigo shading on the horizon warning that the fair weather would not hold much beyond this day. Even so his father's journey was likely to be more arduous than his own for the wind across the marshes would be fierce and the land beside the river a morass of ice and mud that would slow them to a snails pace, at least he would spend much of his travel within the shelter of the trees.

Yet the scene of beauty did not lift his mood, not even the first signs that the branches and of the trees were recovering from the scars of the spiders venom could do that, though he could see that they were becoming straighter and and more supple again just as his father had told him. Instead the silence of the winter forest weighed heavily upon him and the peace and serenity of the winter wood seemed to mock him. To his regret Legolas had felt a dark mood settle upon him as they rode on, not unlike the one that had accompanied his ride home, and as the miles passed a sense of tension knotted his shoulders. At first he had wondered why, for nothing had happened to sink his spirits in this manner, and it had been something of a shock to realise that his dark mood derived from his leaving of his father. This was the first time he had been amongst his own without the protective hovering shadow of his father since he had returned and the loss was greater than he had anticipated 'I am like a child again,' he found himself thinking, 'wishing to cling to his parent's hand, fearful of what might happen, what hurts may come, if he lets go! Am I come to this then? Robbed of my self by a foolish fancy that I cannot put behind me?' His mouth tightened in anger at himself at the thought and he sat straighter in the saddle determined that no one would suspect his anguish.

But there seemed to be no reason for such fears, his companions had been respectful enough and he had started to develop the old sense of camaraderie with a few, even so the imp of despair had for the moment escaped from its chains and it rampaged through his mind at will. For the moment all the peace that he had regained at the midwinter feast seemed lost.

The clouds had darkened before the sun sank and they halted their days travel before dusk set in, setting up their camp in the shelter of a group of blackthorn bushes. As shelters were erected and cooking fires built Legolas rubbed down his horse and wondered how troublesome the hours of darkness would prove to be for him, wishing them gone and the day returned. As his fingers were busy with the fastenings of his saddle and the horse brush his mind was once again walked that last journey home and wondered if he should have turned aside and banished himself for ever.

But what would that have meant for his father, left wondering at his son's fate or grieving the abandonment of his kin for the company of others? No, he had to believe that he would find his way through and become once again the son and prince he had been before his world had been distorted and perverted by events that he would never have believed to be possible. Before his madness, as he was starting to think of it, before he reverted to some strange childish state that he could not explain.

With his horse settled and feeding happily he knew he should return to the fire and the waiting meal, for it would be there than the duties of the night watch would be shared out. The others would not expect him to stand a watch but he had every intention of doing so just as he would have done in the past. Listening to the cheerful chatter of his guard around him he wished for past days, even at the expenses of spider patrols. Yet still he dallied in the shadow of the horses leaning against the trunk of a small eldertree prey to his doubts and fears wondering how the others felt at his presence. Wondering too how he might best show that he had put the past behind him.  
"My lord Legolas?" A familiar voice hailed him from the edge of the shadows.  
"Yes."  
"Are you not eating?"  
There seemed to be faint note of anxiety in the voice that made him wonder at the speakers reasons for seeking him out. Had his father placed watchers amongst this company, was he afraid of what might happen to his son upon the road? He hoped not.

He pushed away his fruitless introspection and he stepping away from the tree responded as lightly as he could.  
"Yes indeed I am for I am famished by the cold."  
He stepped forward and clapped the other elf lightly on the shoulder striving for the right note of humour and ease.  
"Forgive my tardiness, I was lost in thought. I hope you have not waited for me."  
He turned and started towards the fire and the other elf turned with him matching stride for stride.  
"What is it that concerns you enough to keep you from warm food and a bright fire after so cold a ride?"  
Legolas felt himself stiffen at the question, and it took some effort to relax the sudden clenching of his hands, but he answered as naturally as he could and to his own ears the words sounded normal enough.  
"Only thoughts of what we might find further towards the mountains. The king tells me that the spiders and the other creatures of the shadow are gone and yet I wonder where to and if they are simply hiding until such time as the world is more favourable to them."

The elf beside him nodded and responded as if his concerns were to be expected..  
"Thoughts we all share." He said gravely."Each year we have made this trip we have wondered whether we will find the nests repopulated or the trees once again twisted in pain. But you have been away and have not yet seen how the trees recover, for you the fears must be stronger. Unless something has happened to call them back since last we made this journey then you need not worry, it appears that they have departed or are too wary to return above ground. At least down to the mountains."  
They had reached the fire and Legolas sat down upon one of the fallen logs that had been dragged into a rough circle around it. With a smile of thanks he accepted the bowl that was placed into his hands, the scent of the steam rising from it like smoke on the chilly air rousing his hunger and calling up thoughts of happier days. The other elf sat down beside him and after a quick mouthful of the broth Legolas continued their conversation..  
"So the king tells me and yet it seems strange that they would depart so quickly. Unless it was the power of the Lady of the Golden Wood that despatched them. Though neither she nor Lord Elrond mentioned any efforts to do so when I met them.."

Legolas felt a wave of tension run through the group elves clustered around the fire and wondered if it was the mention of his own travels that caused it or the long standing bitterness that the elves of Lothlorien and Imladris and had offered them so little help in the darker days. But in the blink of an eye the feeling was gone and his companion of the shadows was answering him.  
"It may be so for they vanished swiftly enough. The trees recover most quickly near to the kings fortress but even further south the changes could be seen last summer."  
Legolas reached out an took the bread being offered to him.  
"Perhaps if this remains the case then this summer we might push further south and pull down the fortress now that Sauron is banished." He said thoughtfully before biting into the bread.  
He felt a ripple of something again run through elves gathered around the fire.  
"The king is in favour of this?" the elf closest to him asked slowly.  
Legolas looked towards him and shook his head.  
"At present no, but if the darkness continues to retreat then he might view matters differently."  
The other shook his head.  
"There are few that would advise him to do so, at least few who know anything of the matter." he said softly. "The chance to do so was past long ago."  
"Have you ever been to Dol Gulder my Lord, or seen it at close quarters." the lady to his left joined the conversation

Memories of land days and nights spent watching the place surged into his mind and Legolas forced them away impatiently, turning to look towards the speaker as he replied..  
"No, I have seen it from the Golden Wood and from the foothills of the Misty Mountains to the south, but no more than that, the king issued the decree that it was not to be approached before I had completed my training."  
She inclined her head towards him.  
"I thought that was the case, though I am sure you know of the history of the matter. I was in your father guard when he attended the Council that first debated on its destruction of Dol Gulder, at that time he was of Mithrandir's view and much in favour of the action proposed, fearing that to leave it would give time for the evil to tighten its hold. But as you know Saurman was of the opposing view, believing that any assault was unnecessary and that it might serve to awaken the lesser evils that slept there to the detriment of all, and his view prevailed. Both the Lady of the Golden Wood and Lord Elrond supported Saurman and it was decreed that the fortress should be left untouched. Your father was clearly angry believing that all would come to rue the decision, as indeed they did, but he agreed to be bound by the will of the others.

The Lady stared into the fire.  
"But on our return journey it was obvious to all that the King chafed at the inaction and he commanded that we turn aside from the road we entered into the forest in the south, riding towards the fortress for several miles. We halted on a small ridge at some distance and made camp within sight of it's walls but with much land between us still. Yet even there we could feel it, a wind of hate and pain seemed to blow from it and the air danced and crackled with the power of old and dark spells. I recall there seemed to be no day or night as we camped upon that ridge, just a sense of darkness barely held at bay. There was a strange sense of enticement too, promises whispered into the mind of what it would grant to those who came closer. We closed our eyes and ears knowing what such promises would cost any foolish enough to listen."

The elf beside Legolas nodded.  
"Aye, I was also there and I recall it well. The King stood away from the company for many hours, alone, just staring at the place with grief in his face and anger in his eyes. For a little while we thought that the king might ignore the Councils order and attack any way. Each of us prayed that he did not, and that he was not seduced by the whispered promises as many kings might be, for we could feel the teeth of it nibbling at our very souls. When the second day dawned and he came back to the camp and ordered us home there was not one who was not glad. Just as most of us wondered what it had promised him and what he had turned his back on. I was glad then that he had known the evil of old for I could not have borne for our realm fall under the sway of such a thing."  
Legolas inclined his head.  
"Then he is wise not to disturb it until we are sure that what lingers there can be defeated. Let us hope that day is not so very far away. But that being so do our people fear to return to their villages north of the mountains?"  
He felt rather than saw the other shrug.  
"Most do not, though there are few who have moved more permanently and have located themselves closer towards your father protection. Many know that the king believes that the darkness will come again, that is why he extends his halls and prepares to set traps within the wood,"

That comment came from across the fire and through the haze Legolas could not make out the speaker without it being obvious that he was looking to,  
" Most of those who knew it of old agree with him. It make take a few turns of the year, or many centuries but it will come, all thanks to the greed and foolishness of men." A hint of bitterness seeped into the last words.  
"Perhaps, and yet some of our own kind have shown no more sense or restraint where the shadow is concerned." Legolas replied mildly.  
The one across the fire snorted his disgust.  
"The Noldar! Their pride has brought nothing but grief to all of Middle Earth and yet they wonder why we do not want any part of their affairs! The same will be true of men. Worse maybe for they have even less sense and more arrogance."  
Legolas looked down into his bowl wondering how to reply to that and if he was expected to.

"There was a time when it was not so. When the children of men were our allies." The Lady to his left took the task from him, her voice mild and thoughtful. "Perhaps such a time will come again.!  
"Would that be to the good? That alliance cost us dearly," the other responded.  
"Yet would any of us have left the evil unchallenged?" Legolas asked, "I know my father would not, for all his grief and regret at our losses."  
The one across the fire sighed and there was resignation in the reply.  
"No, for the grief would be all the greater should the allies of Sauron get a grip upon the world. But there is no fault in wishing it need not be so or that those who might have prevented it in ages past had done so."  
"Then let us all pray that any further battle proves to be the last one." Legolas added quietly.  
Another elf to his left spoke up for the first time.  
"For many there will be no last battle from what we hear from the wider world. They say that most of the Nolder are travelling west to take ship, that few remain to defend the Golden Wood or Lord Elronds vale should it prove necessary Though maybe you know differently, for you have travelled there and seen for yourself."

Legolas was not sure how best to reply, for it was true that he had been a little taken aback by the reduction in their numbers away from Mirkwood. Was this what they thought he had been doing, reviewing the strength of eleven forces in the wider world? A good enough reason for his journey, and who was to say his father had not had that in mind when he had let his son leave. He smiled grimly to himself, indeed may have been on his fathers mind once the opportunity presented itself for his father was not a King to waste such things. But how to reply? How best to speak the truth without giving rise to worry. He chewed another mouthful of bread as he reviewed what he had seen then nodded.  
"It is true that some have left to sail west, called by the sea as any of us might yet be. But those who would defend Elven lands remain strong enough in number for me to have no doubt those lands would be defended and held should the need arise."

As an answer it must have been good enough for the air of tension that had developed around the fire melted away and off to his right a little further from the fire he heard the strains of a harp soon followed by gentle voices that drifted out on the night air and ran over the darkness like a soft caress.

Legolas finished the rest of his meal in silence, the low muttering of the others around him fading into the background of the song, the familiar sounds as soothing to his mind as his father's voice had once been to his childish nightmare. Finally he rose and took his leave of the company with a light reference to the work he had still to do.

He retired to his tent to write a little more of his report in a more easy frame of mind than at any time since they had left his father on the road.

If only he had stayed there.


	12. Chapter 12

**Signs of things to come**

The man called Andias emerged from the hollow and squinted against the strengthening sun. They had first heard the sound of horses as the wind dropped just after dawn and most of their bedraggled little group had retreated further into the caves having brutally learned that riders rarely brought good to such as they.

It was less than a year since the men had come out of the further east to harry them, driving them from their farmsteads and pushing them west All through the summer and autumn they had trekked on, winding their way across the dark and hostile land of the Withered Heath into the foothills of the Grey Mountains. For a while they had struggled on as the weather worsened, wrapping themselves against the rain and wind, making their way slowly through the lower slopes, living on the little they had managed to forage, looking for a place to settle and always knowing that the further west they travelled the less welcome they would be. Then winter came, swift and vicious and they had been forced to take shelter, surviving on the meagre remnants of the supplies they had fled with and whatever their traps could catch. But the winter was not short and the cold went on, the knife like wind ever present, and though they huddled in the deepest caves they could find it seemed unlikely they would survive until the spring. Already the children cried ceaselessly at the bitter cold and their empty bellies, but there was little that their parents could do for them for nothing grew in the rocky scrub at this season. Nor could they turn and risk returning to their abandoned lands now far away in the east.

Andias and a few of the men had left the main group in the deeper caves and had come closer to the plain hoping to find some game. All one day and night they had watched the empty lands seeing nothing but snow and ice and a rolling fog that drifted up from the shadow of a great forest that grew to the south. As their faint hope of finding food faded away they had looked to the horizon and debated amongst themselves about striking out and trying to make the shelter of those trees, but there was a wide expanse of open land between them and even the outposts of the great tree covered hills, and in their hearts they knew that many of their small number would not survive the trek.

Even so they had not entirely given up the hope of it and so there had been no measuring their dismay when they heard the sounds of many horses coming up from the south east

As the oncoming party drew closer it was clear that it was indeed many horses, and carts too by the sound of it and for a moment their spirits rose hoping that it might be a party of merchants risking the weather to travel to some city in the west; merchants who might be persuaded to spare them a little food and maybe a blanket or two if only for the children's sake, even if they would want paying later. But even merchants would have guards and if they carried gold or other wealth then any welcome was more likely to be an arrow than alms. Andias waived his companions further into cover until they could better judge the nature of the party travelling in their direction.

For a while some hope remained in the little group but as the oncoming horses turned towards the foothills of the mountains and closer to where they sheltered that hope began to fade and the fear that these were more lordless men took hold. Then, as they watched from the shadows, the heavy pall of cloud thinned for a moment increasing the light across the plain and their fears were strengthened, for the flashes of light they saw in the distance had the look of sun on armour. A company of warriors then, and probably not much different to those they had first fled from. Andias sighed but knew that it was foolish to remain and risk the wrath of whatever lord it might be passing by, for he had seen enough of the deeds of temperamental lords in the east. He motioned to his companions and they slipped and slid slowly backwards and upwards towards the caves from which they had emerged.

As they climbed higher he looked back and the sight filled him with renewed alarm for in the brighter light he could see that this was not a handful of men but a long column of soldiers in armour. Unable to tear his eyes away he stared at them far longer than was safe, 'it must be a whole company' he though, then, taking in the standard bearers to front side and rear and the pennants flying from lances, 'nor are they landless or lordless wild men'. Who then were they? The sight of the armoured warriors filled him with terror but he looked with hopeless longing at the provisions carts that sat within the heart of the advancing column. The hunger gnawing at him made him suddenly reckless and rather than slip back into the caves he sheltered in the lee of a large rock and watched the line of men and horse approach

Then suddenly the sun opened a wider crack in the cloud and for an instant its rays flickered on the man at the head of the column and Andias felt his blood turn to ice, for the way the light danced around his uncovered head could only mean one thing, a crown, the head of the column was wearing a crown. A King then, the most powerful Lord of them all, and if he were here then it seemed likely that Andias and the others were in his land and without his permission. If that were true then they were unlikely to find any mercy, for kings were jealous of their lands.

Andias had never met a king before but even so he knew more of them than he wished to. In the wars of the further east there had been many who called themselves kings, often petty lordlings whose only claim to nobility was their willingness to let more men's blood more quickly than a lesser lord. It was often the poor who bore the brunt of their ceaseless jostling for position and Andias had known more than his share of pain and loss as result of their struggles for power. No doubt it was some king in the east who had given away the old lords land and granted the raiding parties the permission to drive them from their homes or take them into servitiude.

No he had no desire to find himself at the uncertain mercy of one who wore a crown.

'But perhaps you are mistaken' the voice of his desperation whispered, 'perhaps it was just a trick of the light and they are merchants who might give us aid.  
He edged back into the shelter of a larger bolder and turned to whisper to his companions.  
"What should we do? They are many, more than I first supposed and if I am not mistaken the one at the head of them wears a crown. What approaches us is a King and his retinue, and I can see no reason why a King should be riding abroad in such weather unless this is his land.  
"If that is so then we might throw ourselves upon his mercy and beg aid for our children's sake." one of the others replied. "If we accept him as our Lord then perhaps he will forgive our intrusion into his lands, for it is not as if we have taken it from his own.  
"And he might not!" Another added. " Even if we have taken nothing and usurp no one he might still put us all to the sword as interlopers and landless vagabonds, and take our women and children into slavery. Safer to lay low and let him pass, if we survive this winter then come the spring we can see how the land lies and if the word is favourable we can send requests for the right to homestead within his lands.  
"And if it not favourable?" Andias asked, "What then? Where do we go when there are mountains to the north and west? I will not return east. No, let him pass I say and hope that he does not notice us, and if he later does, then we may as well die here as there.|  
"But if we do not seek aid now we will not survive the winter!" the second exclaimed. "Perhaps you are mistaken and it is a party of merchants. They are too far away for us to be sure this is a king approaching, I say we hide ourselves and watch as they come closer, if your fears prove just we can remain hidden until they have passed."

Andias looked towards the approaching column, which, even in this short time, seemed to have moved much closer, and sighed. What choice did they have after all, and perhaps he had been mistaken. With another sigh he nodded and they all scrambled back deeper into the shadows of the boulders

The wait stretched their nerves to breaking point for the column of riders seemed to be in no hurry and more than once they halted whilst one or two of their number dismounted and inspected the ground in some strange but apparently meaningful way. But slow as it was their approach was also inexorable and the distance between the two parties was steadily, if slowly, eaten away. The closer they came the deeper Andias's fears became for it was clear that most of them were indeed in some form of armour. The horses too betrayed them, for they were fine beasts bred for hunting and fast travel not the slower farm and pack steeds he was used to. The one at the head of the column drew his attention nearly as powerfully as its rider for it was the largest horse he thought he had ever seen, taller than a man to the shoulder he'd guess, with a long arched neck and powerful chest. Its coat was as black as a moonless winter sky and the unplaited mane and tail were long and thick. Yet despite its size its rider did not seem diminished, and the more he watched this horse and rider the more certain he became that this was no merchant. The way the rider sat his horse, the straight back and the sympathetic movement between him and his mount, spoke more of a warrior used to long hours in the saddle than a dealer in goods, however wealthy.

There was something else about him that drew Andias's attention too, for even at a distance he had an air of authority, of power even, one that spoke of high rank held for a long time, and yet he also had an aura of youth and physical prowess that seemed to be at odds with that demeanour. The closer they came the more uneasy Andias felt and yet he could not turn away and run. So distracted was he in wondering about who these people were that the front of the line was almost upon them before he realised it and only an urgent hand from behind him ensured that he was pulled back into the shadows before they drew level.

The line the column travelled passed about a quarter of a mile from where his little group sheltered, huddled well back into the outlying rocks in deep shadow and out of the light of the sun, and provided they were quiet they should have been safe enough. He would have sworn that they made no sound, nor any movement, that might have given them away and yet as the head of the line passed them the man on the black horse suddenly turned and looked in their direction and shouted out something in a language Andias did not understand. The riders around him drew bows from their backs training them upon their hiding place and a clutch of riders in armour peeled away from the line and headed in their direction.

The soldiers moved quickly, more so than Andias expected, and they were surrounded before they could flee. They knew better than to offer any resistance and made no protest as they were herded like sheep into a cleft within the rocks whilst four archers kept arrows trained upon them .Efficient hands searched them, yet the touch was surprisingly light and there was none of the casual brutality that they had all expected. Whoever these people were they were well trained and disciplined, not mercenaries then and unlikely to be the guard of some petty warlord, But that did not offer much hope for a greater Lord might yet mean grief for their little band and their sheltering companions. The small party exchanged looks, each seeing the same surprise and confusion in the others faces, and also the first hints of a febrile hope that might yet get them all killed.

Andias looked at the soldiers surrounding them as closely as he dared, watching them from under his lashes and only fully lowering his eyes when one of them looked his way. Though they were all in armour, and armed to the hilt with bow and sword, there was something about the little that could be seen of their faces that puzzled him, yet he could not put his finger on what it was.

But that was soon of secondary importance for when the search was completed one of the searchers returned to the waiting company and made a report to the man on the black horse. They all felt their chests tighten around their hearts, each one knowing that this was when their fate would be decided.

For a long moment the rider of the black horse looked at them and it seemed to them that he was debating with himself, would he make more inquiries about their presence or simply kill them and leave their bodies in the snow? Andias felt a momentary relief as the man seemed to come to a decision and gracefully dismounted his horse and moved towards them. Clearly he did not intend to kill them out of hand unless he expected to do the deed himself. As he approached they exchanged worried looks for it was now clear that he did indeed wear a crown upon his brow, and a sword upon each hip. But he would have been a disturbing sight even had he not for he was the most impressive figure that any of them had ever seen; no lord they had ever caught sight of in the east had been like this one.

He had seemed tall seated upon his horse but now dismounted it was clear he was well above the height of most men, and though he looked to have the wide shoulders and strong arms of a swords man there was also something lithe and graceful about him that was uncommon. He was dressed like a warrior in well fitting armour over a coat of light mail but that armour was itself as strange as any Andias had ever seen, as different to the heavy plate steel of the armed men of the east as he could be imagine. Some great craft had been used in producing such mail and as Andias saw the grey shimmer of it he wondered if it were steel at all. But there was little time for such fancies for the Lord wearing it was nearly upon them, his long and easy strides closing the distance quickly and yet as silently as a forest stag. Now he was so close they could see that his cloak fell to his ankles in graceful folders of grey lined with blue, and his pale gold hair was long and hung loose down his back constrained only by the silver links of his crown.

Andias like all his men lowered his eyes in humility and waited for whatever fate this strange lord had in store for them.

As the Lord drew close Andias waited for the soldiers at their side to push them to their knees, but no armoured hand fell upon his shoulder and though he cast his eyes down he remained standing, waiting for whatever was to come. If this unknown King wanted him to kneel as those in the east would have done he would do it gladly to save their lives but he would not do it until he had to. Instead he focussed on the armoured tips of the approaching boots and tried to slow his racing heart, open fear had never served them well before and there was no reason to assume it would be different here. If sudden death was to be his fate then begging for mercy would make no difference.

For a moment there was no sound but the wind and the shuffling feet of the men behind him, then without warning there was a voice and it was as strange as the man who spoke.  
"Man ceril aranarth? Am man the led?"  
The voice was deep and resonant, quiet and calm and as musical as the wind over ripe crops, yet the authority within it was unmistakable, and whoever he was he clearly expected to be understood.

Andias drew a deep breath and looked up into the face of the strange lord, meeting eyes as blue as the summer sky set under strongly marked brows, eyes that yet again looked strange in some indefinable way. Starnjge too was his face, for he was as fair as the flowers in spring and there was about him something that suggested sunlight contained. Andias shook his head, trying to recover his wits, and his expression sad and apologetic as he spread his hands and spoke slowly.  
"I would gladly answer anything but I do not understand what you ask my Lord."

The blue eyes widened as if in surprise or shock and for a moment their gaze seemed to drift, losing focus as if looking at something only he could see. Andias saw the armoured chest and shoulders rise in a deep breath, saw the steel sheathed hands clench into fists, and knew that for some reason he had angered this man in whose hands their future sat. For a long moment there was silence, around him Andias could feel the tensions ripple though the watching soldiers and waited for the hard command that would end their lives and leave their wives and children unprotected, no doubt to be hunted down like game by this company, Despair bit him but he struggled to hold the gaze of the lord before him as if by doing so he could persuade him of their innocent intent.

Nothing moved as the seconds stretched and then the golden haired king blinked and his hands relaxed as his focus returned to the here and now, but even as he did his look became colder and more distant.  
"You are men of the east." He said eventually.  
The words were flat and harsh and he stumbled a little in their execution as if he had not spoken the language in a long time and was struggling to recall the words. It did not sound as if he found any pleasure in doing so and for the little huddle of men the first wave of relief gave way to more fear.  
"Yes my Lord." Was all Andias managed to say before a hand was raised to silence him.  
"Why are easterlings trespassing in my Realm?"|  
"We did not know that we were Sire."  
The king stared down at him, as one of his stature would do to most Andias realised, and the blue eyes scanned his face with an expression that was grim and hard, before he spoke again.  
"Explain yourself and do not think to lie to me for I will know."  
The voice was cold as the winter wind and Andias was taken with a sudden certainty that should he lie this lord would indeed know it.

He drew a deep breath dropping his eyes from the hard blue gaze and spoke softly and slowly.  
"As you have said we come from the further east and in the spring of last year there was war yet further east again of our homeland and our liege lord was killed, his lands being gifted to one of the victors. At first we thought the new lord would allow us to remain unmolested as long as we gave him loyalty and his due. But in that we were proved wrong. The crops were barely planted when the raiding parties began to ride across the old lord's lands, villages were set ablaze and many were taken into bondage or worse."  
He swallowed hard on the sudden surge of memory and his voice thickened in sorrow.  
"It was early on a late spring day when we saw the smoke from the burning of the nearest village and we did not wait for them to tire of their sport there and turn their horses our way, we packed all that remained of the winters stores, gathered those of our beasts that we could drive and fled our village and into the forests close by. When the horsemen had given up the search and departed, we set off to make our way across into the north and did not stop until we reached the hinterlands of the Withered Heath. There we camped for a short while but the land was beak and we knew they might always be behind us and so we moved on until we reached the fringes of the mountains. There we halted for a while but we knew that autumn would soon be drawing on and while the weather held we threaded our way though whatever gap in the mountains that we could find."

He looked up into the kings face again and smiled a sad and twisted smile.  
"Some of us died upon the journey, our beasts fled or were let loose when the grazing ended for we could not feed them nor could we carry the meat. When winter came we had no choice but to halt and find what shelter we could, but it has been hard and more have succumbed to the cold and hunger. Now our children cry until they are exhausted and we knew we needed to find food or all would die. A few of us came to this place in hope of better hunting. But I swear to you my Lord that we did not know that we trespassed upon any Realm. We long ago lost any real sense of where we were."

The cold blue eyes had remained fixed upon him as he had spoken and the expression of the king's face had not shifted from watchful calm.  
"How many of you remain?" He now asked.  
"A score or so my Lord."  
"Families you say, women and children too.  
Andias felt the fear rise in him again for he knew well how their pursuers in the east would have used such information, but he also knew there was no longer any choice, he could trust to this strange Lords mercy or they would starve in the caves. Was that a better fate? With a feeling of hopeless despair he shrugged  
"Yes Sire"  
For a long moment the king stared at him with an expression that was impossible to read, and then he turned slightly and shouted a command in the language they did not understand, at his words six of the soldiers from behind him dismounted and crossed to stand before him. He gave them some instruction and they bowed their understanding and waited, then he turned back towards the huddled little group and tilted his head a little to stare down into Andias's face as he said,  
"You will lead my soldiers to them."

Andias felt the rising swell of terror run through him and swallowed hard, his throat feeling as if it were lined with iron bands, wondering if he had just betrayed his companions to their deaths. Perhaps his fear was visible for a momentary surprise flashed across the king's face and he spoke again, a little less harshly than before.  
"If you have spoken the truth you have nothing to fear, your women and children will take no harm of me or my kin, we are not easterlings and such things are not our way."

He turned to issue another command and as he did so a sudden squall of wind lifted his hair a little and the group of men drew deep breaths as his strangeness was explained; for his hair parted a little in the draft and for the first time they saw the points to his ears that could only mean one thing. Andias heard the muttered oaths behind him and prayed for them to be silent as they realised the truth of this strange King. For this mighty lord who owned their fate was not a man at all but an Elf!

XXX

They had pitched camp and Thranduil was seated in his tent staring at maps when the report came.  
'They spoke the truth my Lord, mainly women and children. Nor do they have a weapon between them other than what might be expected for hunting or travelling through the mountains."  
The king nodded, he had not really expected anything else.  
"I did not doubt it. Feed them and give them blankets if they need them. Are there any who require any other assistance?" He spoke without looking up.  
The captain of the guard shook his head.\  
"Most are in a poor state my lord but nothing that food and rest will not resolve with time. At least that would be the case if they were elves, it is harder to judge with the sons of men. There are amongst the children one or two that seem more sickly."  
At that the king did look up and stared at the brazier for a moment before replying.  
"See that they are attended to and then get them all into one of the empty carts."  
"Yes my lord, what do you wish us to do with them?"

Thranduil sat back and steepled his hands beneath his chin.  
"Send them to their kin on the lake, though it may take time to arrange. For the moment organise an escort to return them to the toll takers encampment at the river crossing then send a rider down to the Master informing him of their plight and seeking refuge for them. The escort is to remain with them until the men of the lake send aid; I would not have easterlings at large unsupervised however innocent and harmless they may appear. I well recall such stratagems from the past and it needs caution whatever the first impression may be."  
"Very well my Lord. Do you believe that they have some other purpose?"  
The king considered for a moment before replying.  
"This group, no. they have spoken the truth as far as they understand it yes, but that does not mean that others do not make use of them even now, or will seek to do so in the future."."

He reached for his pen.  
"It would seem that the further east is yet again descending in war and strife and the men of Dale and the Lake must be informed of this for they will need to be on their guard if the situation in the further east worsens. In time they may find themselves having to deal with the dispossessed men of the defeated lords for which they will need to prepare. The courier can take a second letter for the Master of Lake town and then ride on to Dale with one for Bard. Make sure sufficient provisions are provided for such a journey,"  
"Yes my Lord; and what would you have us do now?"  
"We will remain camped here tonight, make sure the easterlings have the necessary shelter and feed them as they need, particularly the children."  
The captain nodded and left without further words.

For a while Thranduill stared at the paper before him, wondering how best to frame words to convey the sudden sense of a chill wind arising that had blown through his mind when first he heard that accursed language again. Bard was no fool and had seen the power of the creatures of the darkness for himself but how to explain to him the new danger? This small group of helpless farmers had been lucky to survive and were no threat but others who would be may yet follow the same trail. The easterlings had been promised much by Sauron in the last age and none of it had come to pass, their well of bitterness and desire for revenge had seemed to be bottomless then and he saw no reason to assume that it had changed.

While the dragon had lived he had been sure that those of the further east would not risk crossing the Heath or the mountains but with the deterrent of dragon fire removed who could say what would eventually arise. After all that was the true reason he had gone to the mountain when Smaug died. Though there were none he would admit that too unless he had to, after all he had spent many years protecting the present from the shadows of the past. With Dain in the mountain his most pressing concerns had eased, difficult though the dwarf might be, but this development stirred new doubts and fears. While he couldn't share those fears with Dain as matters stood he could be sure that Bard would.

For a moment he stared blindly at the paper and cursed Oakenshield and his line with every soldier's curse he had ever learned, for the damage he had done was far greater than the dwarf had ever guessed.

Then he pickled up his pen and, choosing his words with great care, he set about setting the men of Dale and Lake upon their guard.

When he was satisfied with the result he sealed the letters and he rose and left his tent, calling for the captain of the guard to take them. The sun was sinking towards the west now and the escort and the little group of intruders could not leave before first light, maybe not then if the weather worsened. But by the time he resumed his journey and turned towards the meeting point with Legolas they would be on their way towards the lake.

Yet Thranduil felt restless, his long fostered calm forced and hollow, and he knew that he could not ignore the clamour of his memory if he was to have any rest. So he turned away from his tent and passed though the camp and beyond it to a point where he could look upon the shadows spreading across the mountains that hid the withered heath from his view.

As he looked towards them he drew a deep sigh and the present fell away again as it had when the man first spoke, and he was back in the past, south not north, and at the gates of Mordor. Orc and easterling had rallied to Sauron's call then and the battles had been long and bitter before the gates fell and the dark one fled. For three millennia he had buried the memories of those deeds within the walls of his mind, never allowing them the light, denying them any power over his life or the lives of his people; yet twice now in less than ten springs they had escaped, and whilst no blood had been spilled this time still their emerging left him shaken and chilled. Fear of what he was now sure was to come clawed at his heart and he closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to do what it might require of him and for the grace to hope that this really would be the final battle.


	13. Chapter 13

**As others see us**

The journey towards the mountains was slower than they had hoped it would be for the weather had worsened after they turned away from the river, the blizzards rolling down from the dark mountains ahead, the thickening curtains of ice slivers soaking them and straining even elven sight. Frequent stops were necessary to brush the weight of ice from their horse's coats and legs and to clean the snow from the wheels and coverings of the carts. The elves pulled their hoods about their ears and stared closely at the ground ahead looking for any sign of the pitfalls that lay below the thickening white carpet.

Nor did it ease much as they turned further into the trees, for the weight of the falling snow had pushed aside the bare branches or alighted upon them in layers that finally fell to earth, leaving drifts piled around the trunks of the trees and turning the smaller bushes into icy pillows. By the time the first of the mountains was in sight on the horizon, and the beech and oak were giving way to fir, everything around them was wrapped in a white haze of snow and ice, a dusty layer that all too often slid from the narrow needles to seek refuge beneath their hoods and down their necks.

Though they all wished to be at their destination as quickly as possible they took no risks and slowed their progress to a snails pace to protect their horses and the cart wheels. Members of the company now took it in turns to dismount and reconnoitre the snow shrouded land to front and side, looking for the places the horses could tread in safety, whilst others alternated between leading the spare horses and assisting the provisions carts over the slippery land. As they hauled and shouldered one drift caught wagon after another back on to an even footing Legolas wondered why he had not remembered how hard this journey could be. For a moment he stopped and mopped the sweat from his brow, sighing as he saw another cart tilt and slip, and he wondered how his father had managed to do the full circuit alone during his absence.

There were no more convivial nights by the fire now, they were approaching the places where the shadow had been deepest in the time before Sauron fled Dol Guldor and more caution was needed. Despite the exertions of the daylight hours night watches were doubled and groups of guards placed at intervals around the perimeter of the camp. When dusk fell those members of the company who were not needed to stand guard wrapped themselves in their cloaks and slept beside the fire or found themselves space in the communal tents. Legolas had a tent of his own as befitted his status but he insisted on sharing it and not only because of the weather.

For Legolas had heard something he would have wished not to have heard, and, as a result, he was determined that his isolation must end before they rejoined his father.

It had been the night before they left the route of the River Running and turned towards the forest edge, two sunsets after the parties had separated, and when he had been feeling the loss of his father's company so very badly. He had retired to his tent after eating and had applied himself to his report for as long as it had taken for a lamp to burn away, then, feeling cramped by the hours writing, he had decided to stretch his legs before retiring.

Above him the cloud had swathed the stars and though the snow had not yet started to fall he had known that it would not be long before it began. For a moment he hesitated beside the group of elves still huddled by the fire  
"Snow before morning, will that cause us delay or detour? I am no longer sure of the state of the roads around the mountain foothills." He asked.  
One, a guard captain looked up at him and shrugged.  
"It may slow us in reaching the edge of the mountain path my lord but once we have we will be in the shelter of the trees as far as the foothills,"  
He nodded.  
"I thought as much but my father said this winter had been particularly hard and I recall a place or two where the drifts can be formidable."  
That brought a laugh from more than one of the elves still basking in the fire glow.  
"Yes it is true that road can be hard if the snow fall is heavy," one added, " there are a few places where the horses struggle even though an elf may pass."  
"A gentle walk in the snow for us all then," he had said with a smile before turning away from the fire and striding out towards the darker perimeter of the camp.

He had walked the circle of the camp, past the dormitory tents and the tethering point of the pack horses, and he was nearly back at his own tent when he caught the sound of elven voices off to his right. Afterwards he would wish many times that he had done as he would once have done, called out a greeting and moved on, but the gnawing sense of uncertainty, the continuing doubts about what other elves thought of his return, had suddenly risen up and he had moved into the shadows and listened. Had he been five minutes earlier or later the conversation might have been unconcerned with him but as it happened fate decreed otherwise.

"Do you think he knows, that he has realised?"  
"Who? The king? Oh I'm sure he knows; he misses very little, even when they try hard to keep it from him."  
"No, I mean Legolas, do you think he knows?"  
"Knows what exactly?"  
"About Tauriel." the name came out as if the speaker wished to distance himself from the word.

Legolas knew then that it would be best to turn and walk away, to return to his report or his blankets with his curiosity unsatisfied and his dignity intact, but his guilt was like a healing wound he could not stop touching and instead of heeding sense he slipped back into the deeper shadows.

"Oh her, knows what? That she is in Dale? I expect so I don't think the king will risk keeping that from him. She has caused enough grief, and more than grief, between father and son already; the father at least will take care not to allow her the opportunity to cause any more."  
"Not that."  
"What then?"  
"Why she abused his trust as she did.  
There was a moment of silence and then a third elf, one whose voice was very familiar, a voice Legolas recognised as that of a comrade of long standing, spoke slowly.  
"Legolas is not a fool and there is more of his father in him than it might seem at the moment, he will not have shied away from the considering events clearly, or of seeing the truth of them, these last seasons."  
The first one spoke again.  
"Are you so sure? Why now? She had long become opinionated and overbearing, always convinced that she knew more than others, that she was a better judge of matters, despite her little knowledge of the world, and yet he never seemed to see it.."  
"More than that!" The second speaker exclaimed. "He seemed to condone her faults. I was of the king's guard the day they brought the Orc in and heard all that happened, and I tell you that at one point she would have killed the creature, captive as it was, in her rage had the king not intervened. It was clear that he felt she had lost her reason at that moment for he sent her away. I saw her face as she passed us and there was both great hatred and bitterness in her expression. It occurred to me then that her anger was not only directed at the Orc but that at the one who denied her the revenge she so clearly sought. Yet the prince made no protestat it, he even seemed to encourage her."

The third elf sighed heavily before he replied.  
"Ah well I doubt he meant it to be seen as such and she had been as his sister in all but blood after all, at least until he confused those fraternal feelings with his desire for a family of his own."  
"I do not think that fraternal feeling is the answer," the second elf replied. "for though he made no protest at her actions, seemed almost to approve them, he was quick enough to censorious comment when his father killed it, and, not only, I think, because the king had said he would set it free."  
"I wonder why he did so?" the first voice asked. "He sent her away for her attack upon the prisoner and yet he killed it scarcely minutes after doing so, and the prince said that it told him little enough."  
"That was strange," the second voice replied, "we were turned away from them and so saw nothing but I can say that there was no warning from the king, no threat or taunt was made. Just a silence whilst the Orc gloated about its master serving the one and the world burning and then the sound of a sword drawn and a thud as its head fell to the floor."  
"Perhaps he felt no need to warn it."  
"Perhaps not, but what of the prince? Legolas was standing next to the creature and with a knife at its throat by the sound of its' breathing and its' voice. Why strike then when there was a risk that he would harm the prince, or at least foul his blade and so fail his object?"  
"Well we all know how quick the king is, and the sense he has of his weapon and his enemy. Yet even so it is indeed strange that he struck then and in that way." The first voice replied.  
"I thought so and I discussed with my companion when our watch was over and we agreed it was as if the king acted on impulse and not with any intent, at least from what we heard. Also, when the king walked away there was a strange look in his eyes as if something dire from the past had reached out and caught him and he had not quite returned to the present."

The third voice now made itself heard again.  
" We cannot know what was in the king's mind at that moment and he would have been within his right to execute the Orc, yet as you say why do so then and there if there was no special circumstance? There was no imperative for it to be done at that moment and perhaps something to be gained by not doing so. Something certainly caused his actions but none of us can say what." There was a sigh, "As for Legolas, I can no more explain that actiion than some others, but her action may be a factor for it is true that she had had influence over him for some time. It was his ill luck that she was as she was for that influence had not been to his benefit. It is perhaps a sign of state of things with him that he did not comment on her assault but did upon his father's, for surely hers' was an equal sin, if not the greater. I did not know of this matter but it accords with what I had seen myself; that he was approaching a state of mind where he could no longer see her or himself clearly."

Legolas felt a sudden surge of dread but could not turn away.

There was a pause then the third voice spoke again slowly and with obvious reluctance.  
"Were you there the day we came upon the dwarves?"  
"No." the other two answered in unison,  
"Well had you been you would have seen and heard what I mean, it was an example of how Legolas had changed as he convinced himself that he had become enamoured of her; though if that was the cause of the change I could not say, only that the two events seem to have coincided."  
"What changes do you speak of?"  
" Well…. It was perhaps a sign of things to come and maybe those of us who saw it were at fault in not remonstrating with him. But…..Legolas and I have spent many a watch together and walked many patrols side by side and I thought I knew him well, yet on that day I found that I did not. Previously he had shown much of the composure and restraint of his father, not surprising for he was trained to be a prince, and like his father he is even tempered and generally good humoured. I had never heard him be spiteful or wantonly cruel before that day, whatever the provocation. Yet when we came upon those dwarves he most certainly was both, and in a manner most unbecoming and unnecessary. Some of his remarks would have earned him a stiff reproof from his father had he heard them, for they were pointless taunts, almost childish in their nature, and a prince should be above such things. It is my judgement that he behaved so because of her presence. Nor was that the only change in him, at times, and as her influence upon him grew, he barely seemed like an elf at all, Sylvan or Sindar, but more like a surly son of men."

In his hiding place Legolas felt shame set flame to his face for he had no difficulty in recalling the remarks his friend referred to. Looking back he could no more defend them than he could his actions in Dale, such ill tempered words aimed at prisoners should indeed have been beneath him, and had he heard anyone else make similar remarks he would have reprimanded them for it.

A sound from the trees behind them silenced the voices whilst the sentries listened, then, satisfied that it was nothing more than a scurrying rat, they relaxed and returned to their speculations.

"But do you think he knew of her wider hopes?" the second speaker resumed.  
"I hope not for his sake." That was the third voice again. "He has been my friend and comrade for far too long for me to wish him such ill. As it is it hurts me to see him so quiet and unsure, I'd not see his mood of self doubt and regret deepened further. I would not see him suffer under the lash of guilt any longer."  
"There are those who would see more than that if they could persuade the King." That was the first speaker again.  
"True enough and I can understand why that might be," the second elf replied. "Treason and threatened kinslaying was what she did, there is not much worse that could have been done! But he took no real part in that even though he protected her from being taken, and it was done at the heat of battle. If the king will be merciful no other has cause to complain, it was his life she threatened after all. "  
"They would say it was the realm she threatened and all within it." The first voice said.  
The third replied with a hint of humour in his voice, the first since the conversation had begun.  
"Yes I know, though I doubt she thought so far ahead or indeed thought of the consequences of her actions at all, for she rarely did. Perhaps we should not surprised, she had long passed considering the rightness or otherwise of her conduct or its cost to others. Let us hope that he does not petition his father for her return."

There was a rustle as the guards shifted position and Legolas dropped into a crouch determined not to be caught listening yet unable to drag himself away. The familiar third voice spoke again, the tone of his voice losing the humourous edge and becoming sad and contemplative.  
"He must know it could never be done, and that aside I do not think that he hopes that she will return, not now. Whatever there was in the past it will be easier for him with some distance between them. But he is the King's son and there will come a time when he has to travel the road to Dale, and seeing her might still cause him grief."  
There was a moment's pause and then the first voice came again.  
"It does not seem that he has left his grief behind at all, for no one meeting him now would guess at his previous manner, he a seems to have lost both balance and merriment."  
"True enough, and hope too." The third elf replied. "Even when he is not sad his mood seems heavy and shadowed. I find that I have to remind myself who it is I speak to when we converse. Though perhaps time is all he needs for he seemed much happier, more like himself, during the midwinter feast. I hope that he can put this dark mood aside for I would not wish to think my friend of so many long watches was lost to us for ever."

Legolas could bear no more and rising carefully he edged slowly away from the little group and then slipped away back to his tent wishing with all his heart that he had continued writing. He sank down upon his bed and dropped his head into his hands and remained there reflecting on that conversation, for it had opened up new doubts in his mind. The comments disturbed him profoundly for they hinted at something more deep rooted than just his impetuous actions at Dale. How much more of his earlier conduct did he need to apologise for, how many others had he hurt or embittered? What other slights and grievances was his father having to forgive him unmarked? As for Tauriel, how he had not noticed that she was unpopular when it had just been spoken of as common knowledge by those who had cause to know, her fellow guards? He had known that she had few friends amongst the wider community but he had always considered that the price of his father's protection of her, assuming that others saw her as being someone they could never be truly at ease with; yet his eavesdropping suggested that her separation from others was more a product of her own conduct than his fathers shadow.

Much though he did not wish to recall those time he found his mind drifting back to a conversation beside the river. He had promised her his father's forgiveness and she had shrugged if off as if the wishes of the one who had given her shelter and a home for most of her life had been unimportant, and without even giving them consideration.

His fingers knotted themselves in his hair as the memory played out in the unforgiving brilliance of hindsight.

She had said she would not forgive herself, that they too were of the world, and yet for all the fine sentiments, the noble phrases, what concern had she really shown for that world; or for anything other than her own desires? What she done after abandoning her duty and leaving his father's halls, other than chase a dwarf? Where were the actions of compassion and wider service she had hinted at? There were none. How had he not noticed that at the time?

When the news came that she was to be banished she had seemed amazed, and yet what could she have expected, given that she deserted her post and disobeyed her king's instruction to return to it? It was true she had protested when he had also refused to return but other than that one protest she had made no attempt to dissuade him from ignoring his father, and she had never hidden the fact that she expected him to come to her aid regardless of the consequences. No doubt she had expected as much in Dale, and he in his blindness had obliged her. If he had not done so then he doubted she would have gone to Ravenhill at all, for his father had been right when he had said that nothing had stood in the way of her doing so. A king had wider concerns, not least the wellbeing of his soldiers and his Realm to weigh in his decision, but what other considerations did she have?

Even the object of her interest had died because of her action, no wonder his kinsman wanted no news of that to spread!

Legolas had sprung to his feet at this point unable to sit still any longer and had hurried out into the winter's night again to seek the shelter of the darkness. Seeking out a large beech tree he had noticed when they made camp he climbed it and settled himself as close to the stars as he could manage to complete the confrontation of his memories.

XXX

Andias looked across at his wife and smiled; their youngest child slept peacefully in her lap, the small face clean and wrapped in the bliss of childish sleep for the first time in many months. As if feeling his eyes upon her Esamrith looked up and smiled at him, the pinched look of long months of worry and little food had not faded but already a faint colour could be seen in her cheeks and the dull hopeless look had faded from her eyes.  
"They say we will be on the move tomorrow, that this snow will have passed by then and it will be possible to move towards the road." He said with a smile.  
"Will they take us in these Lakemen do you think?" she said softly.  
He nodded.  
"I believe they will, though their welcome may be a little grudging given that we are not of their lands and they owe us nothing."  
"But you think they will allow us to remain?"  
"Yes, for the sake of their goodwill with the Elvenking if nothing else, for he must be nightly powerful in these lands and I think he requests sanctuary on our behalf."

She looked down at their sleeping child with a smile.  
"How strange it is, for the little I have ever heard of elves does not tally with what we have found here. I have always heard of them spoken of as sly and evil and ever willing to sell men into slavery. Yet not one kick or blow has there been, no groping hands or sneering looks, the children and the sick have been dealt with most kindly and they have fed us from the food they eat themselves. I cannot believe that they would treat us so only to pass us into bondage."  
"No more do I. Nor do I have any complaint to make of our treatment, and indeed given all that has happened to us these last years I would as well have this strange Elvenking as my Lord as any man I have known in the east."  
She shot him an enquiring look.  
"Strange you say, and yet why so? He is beautiful I will grant, far more so than any I have ever seen, but they are all of them very fair it seems and he is their king, is it strange then that he is fairest of all? But not just fair, they all of them have a glow that I have not seen in any man."

Andias shook his head.  
"It is not his appearance, though I'll not disagree that he is fairer than any I have ever seen. Nor is it his height and strength when we had been told that elves were small and weak, or the lack of blemish upon one who is so clearly a warrior. But there is something else about him that I cannot find words for."  
Esamrith smiled softly.  
"Well he is lordly and regal it is true, more truly like a king of the ancient tales than those that live now, in our home lands at least. He would look royal and powerful even if dressed in workman's clothes."  
She looked down at her child while she considered.  
"Kind I think, but separate. Yet why would he not be when his concerns must be so different to those of yours or mine?" She stroked their daughter's head, a slight frown coming to her brow, "I think they are heavy too, for I have seen him about the camp a little and when he looks upon us it seems as if the weight of the world falls upon his shoulders and I wonder what he thinks. Yet even then I do not fear ill from him."

Andias looked across the camp towards the king's tent and nodded.  
"Yes I have seen that look too, as if he beholds at the same time both a black memory and the foresight of a doom yet to come. Perhaps that is what I feel but cannot say; perhaps he has the ability to see things yet to come. Or maybe…..yes perhaps that is it."  
His wife shot him a questioning look and he smiled softly, reaching out to touch the sleeping child.  
"They say", he said slowly, "that elves are immortal, if that be so perhaps it is the weight of the past he has seen that I feel when I come close to him. For there is something I have never met before that hangs around him like a heavy cloak."  
His wife nodded.  
"Certainly there is a far seeing look in his eyes; and a sense of patience as if he has seen all things and endured them, that nothing now may surprise him. Yet I do not see it as heavy, though he is not as merry as most of his company, to me he seems as bright as day, like a new filled lamp set in a window to draw you safely home. I would happily dwell within his lands if he would allow it for I cannot imagine that I would ever wish him ill, or that he would willingly cause me to."  
Her husband sighed.  
"I too, but it is clear he thinks that we would fare better with those closer to our kin. Perhaps he is right for we know little of his people other than this company, perhaps they would not accept us, or maybe there is no land free that we could farm without depriving others. Still I will trust to his goodwill and his provision for us, and should it prove to be a false move then I will travel to his forest willingly to beg his aid."

He smiled and grasped her hand.  
" For the moment let us just be grateful for his care of us and take this opportunity for a little respite from our troubles."

XXX

In his tent Thranduil studied the reports of his outriders and scouts, watching as his scribe mark the maps with signs to show where ditches needed to be cleared and renewed, where trees had fallen and where bridges required to be repaired. Each one would have a list of skills and materials needed to complete the work and the names of the craftsmen and villages to whom it would be allocated. Consulting with his stewards about the timing and and supply of materials was a tedious business but necessary and so he didn't begrudge the extra days delay. For the weather had closed in again not long after they made camp, a hard wind surging from the mountains driving snow before it, and so it had not been possible to send the easterlings towards the road. Unwilling to leave them with only a small guard he had given the order that they would wait a further day and so they had remained encamped, hoping for the wind to drop. By the time dusk was falling it had abated and the clear sky spoke of a still night and a hard frost to come, seeing it he gave the order to be ready to move on when the sun rose.

"Are the easterlings likely to find a welcome amongst the men of the lake my lord?" Galion asked as he brought in a jug of warmed wine and set it beside the king's right hand.  
Thranduil looked up from his maps.  
"I see no reason why this small group should not be. There are no warriors amongst them, the few able bodied men are clearly farmers and herdsmen. If the lake men cannot accommodate them then I will petition Dale on their behalf. Bard well knows that the land around the city must be brought back under the plough if all are to be fed as Dale is occupied again, there is land to the south and the east that has long been desolate that now must be tilled again. But if all else fails, and if I must, then I will settle them on Elven land beyond the forest, in that area made barren by the dragon."  
Galion frowned.  
"My lord, do they deserve such considerations? They are friends of the dark one after all."  
The king dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand.  
"I doubt this group are, or that they know much of the Sauron or the past at all. None seem schooled in anything other than husbandry. Tales told around a fire of a winters evening perhaps, but nothing more than that. I have had the company pay close attention to their conversations since we found them and unless they are more skilled at pretence than seems likely they are only concerned with their children and finding their next meal."

He paused for a moment then smiled slightly.  
"But it would be wise to be as sure as we can be. Give them wine Galion, now they are fed they should be able to tolerate it."  
"My lord?" Galion asked in confusion.  
Thranduil's smile widened.  
"Wine, Galion, enough to loosen their tongues and steal away their caution if they have any. I have often observed that the children of men become most informative after a little wine. So give them wine, though not too much for they will have drunk little but water for some time if what they say of themselves is the truth. Then tell the captain of the guard to set the company to notice what they say. If there is cause for concern in their conversations then report it to me immediately."

As Galion left Thranduil sat back and poured himself a glass of wine and stared at it for a moment. He was nearly sure that they were what they seemed to be, and he would cause them no further harm or grief if that proved to be the case; but he would not forget that Sauron had had many unlikely servants in the past. Yes, it would be wise to be as sure as could be before he sent them anywhere.

XXX

Whether it was the silence of the trees, he still could not hear them even as he sat in one, or the lingering echoes of Sauron's shadow Legolas didn't know but his thoughts had become more bleak and bitter as the night progressed. Over and over again he heard the comments of those guards, who had been his friends and comrades, echo around his head.  
"Why she abused his trust as she did."  
"But do you think he knew of her wider hopes?"  
"He has been my friend and comrade for far too long for me to wish him such ill."

Well he could accept that she had abused his trust now that he would let himself see it. He had followed her to grief and ruination and asked for nothing in return, yet there had been no word of thanks or recognition even as they had travelled to Ravenhill. In fact there had been no conversation at all, she had achieved her objective and that left nothing more for her to say to him. No mention of his father and her challenge to him, no reassurance of her intentions, no profession of regret; he had been left as uncertain as to what she had intended by that act as when it had happened. At the time he had not wanted to think of it, because his anger had cooled as they travelled to Ravenhill and the first shoots of doubt had appeared. The further he got from that street the more obvious it became to him that if his father had intended her harm she would have been dead before his intervention. By the time they were clear of the city the enormity of what he had just done had sunk in and all of his past had risen up and pierced his confidence in his actions, the reaction turning his mouth dry and knotting his stomach.

Then they had been fighting for their lives and all else had passed from his mind until he had stood alone and watched her cradle the dead dwarf, at which point he had realised the full implication of his deeds and the chasm they had opened up between himself and all of those whose love and respect he had relied upon since his birth.

In that moment the darkness had dropped upon him and he had known that he had sacrificed everything that mattered for an illusion, a dream of one who didn't care for him at all. He had destroyed the things he valued, that had defined his life, for something that had never had any reality or worth.

He hadn't expected his fathers compassion, and if the truth were told he would rather have not been treated as a much loved son at that moment, it would have been far easier if he had been able to hold on to the anger and the twisted image of the confrontation in Dale. But however much he wanted to he could not, and though great was his despair at that moment he could not take the words back. Regardless of his fathers forgiveness he had known that he could not return. In the years afterwards he had wondered what his father would have done if he had not left of his own volition.

But what of those wider hopes they had spoken of, what else had others seen that he had been blind to? His father had hinted that there was more behind her infatuation with the dwarf than the obvious, but what might it be? If she wanted rank then all she had to was to encourage him in his preference for her, for he would never have doubted the rightness of their bond had she accepted him. His father would not have forbidden it, whatever his private feelings, why would he? He might have wished for a closer blood tie with one of the other elven lands but he would never have demanded it of his son, no elven father would, though he knew the sons of men often did. No, had she pledged herself to him, the king's son, she would have been a princess of their Realm and entitled to stand amongst the highest of the Elf Lords in any gathering. Had his father sailed, or, Valar forbid, died in battle then she would have been queen of the largest remaining elf lands in Middle-earth. What hopes could be wider than that? If it was not that she had wanted then what could it be, and what ill could befall him in knowing it?

As the night aged and he came no nearer to understanding he pushed the thought away and turned his mind to what he might do to shed the appearance of hurt and suffering he so obviously still wore. He had relied enough on sympathy now was the time to reclaim himself. For his friends and his fathers sake he must turn his back on the shadows of that day, it might require that he play an outward part that he did not feel inside himself, but if turning his life into a play would convince others that he was healing and give them ease in his company then a play it would become.

The only question was what part he should adopt, by dawn he had decided that while he could no longer play the part of the hero he might master the lines of the hero's friend.


	14. Chapter 14

**A fading shadow**

They had reached the first foothills of Emyn-nu-Fuin four days ago and were making slow progress westward towards the highest peaks, where the snow lay deepest and the mountain tips were hidden in cloud. These peaks were higher and more angular than those that housed the Elvenking's halls and though there was no river here there were many springs and rivulets tumbling down through the rocks to the forest floor. All were full at this time of the year though many were skinned with ice and silent. The elves did not risk drinking from them, though the waters seemed clear and clean, for there was still much doubt about the state of the land above them.

This was the most dangerous part of the tour for it was here, in these high slopes and peaks, that the beasts of darkness had been most numerous in the evil days.

They had not come this far south for many centuries prior to the cleansing of Dol Gulder by the lady and the wizard and so the trails and pathways were unknown to Legolas, even though they were marked upon the maps. However it was clear to him that some work at restoring the wider lanes had been undertaken, and when they came upon the road that wound its way through the foothills there were signs of the surface being repaired. It seemed that his father did not assume the shadow would return immediately or that he intended to fight its emissaries more vigorously within the mountains next time.

Now the ease of the earlier parts of the journey was abandoned, bows and swords were kept to hand and double watches mounted each time the column halted. Legolas knew that his father believed that these mountains and the forest closes to them was the source of the all the dark creatures that had plagued them for so long; and that if any remained above ground it would be here they would be found. So he made sure he joined every inspection party and climbed up the lower slopes at each stop, feeling his way through tree and bush searching for a track or trace of spider, wild wolf or Orc. But they found nothing even where the blanket of needles, deep and mould ridden in the days of shadow, was thin and the dark soil and stone beneath it could be seen. Reason to hope that this year would find nothing new to concern them. Here the trees were truly blighted and even the smaller saplings and bushes were stunted and twisted into strange shapes, their leathery pine needles were brown, their tips sharp and brittle.

Each nest was marked on the map, and each of them had now been marked on the ground too, the signposts being tall pillars of rock topped by bonfires set in the middle of each of the spawning grounds.

Legolas had frowned when they came upon the first of the nest for the remnants of webs still hung amongst the trees, their anchor threads now detached in many places and flapping like washing upon a line in the stiff winter winds.  
"Why have the web filaments not been cleared, they may be an ongoing source of venom that still burns the trees?" He asked the leader of the inspection party.  
She nodded.  
"We thought to do so the first year we came back to this road my lord, but the web is strong and sticky even now, more than one of your father's company had to be cut free. The business was slow and the king decided that it was better left until we were sure the nests were deserted and so needed to be less wary. It is the intention to send a party here in summer to clear the land and to climb up the mountains to determine if there are higher nests or burrows. As yet he has not been sufficiently satisfied of the safety of those he must send to issue the command."  
"Why is he so concerned, it is clear that these nests have been abandoned for several winters?"  
She looked down at the map then looked up and scanned the slopes nearest to them; then she rolled the map again and smiled at him.  
"Come I will show you."

With that she called to a group of three other elves and they and Legolas followed her as she began to climb up a nearby slope.

The climb was difficult, for the night had delivered an ice storm and now the scree was frozen and the surrounding rocks slicked with ice, cold enough to burn even elvish skin if touched for too long. As they rose higher above the rocky mountain road they could see the darkening of the land below caused by spider venom, but also the new growth of needles in the taller trees that spoke of a regeneration begun. As they rested for a while his guide pointed out the areas where new trees were appearing and where winter flowers had once again been seen.  
"Your father is much in accord with the forest and he is confident that the pain is declining and new life burgeoning. He speaks too of the stories the birds tell of life resuming in the tree tops in the spring. Do you agree my lord?"  
Legolas paused in a moment of uncertainty, for the trees were still silent for him. Then he smiled.  
"My father is, as you say, sensitive to the voices of the forest, even though he is not of Sylvan blood. I would not doubt his judgement on this unless you have reason to do so?"  
"Oh no my Lord, I too can feel the changes of which the king speaks, all of us can and it brings great joy. The few scouts we have sent to the other side of the mountains speak of the first signs of recovery there also, though slower than the northern forest and much slower than the lands closest to our Halls. Perhaps there will come a time when we can occupy the land down to these mountains, and even beyond, as once we did, though I understand the king's caution in that matter and you will too understand why if we go higher."  
With that she turned and resumed the climb.

How much higher they scrambled he was not sure for the slopes became more dangerous still, even for an elf, and his efforts were concentrated on maintaining hand and footholds, but eventually they reached a small plateau to the side of which there was an opening. The elves with him now drew knife and bow and his guide indicated that they should be quiet as they slowly advanced on the cave mouth. As they reached the threshold one behind him lit a lamp handing it forward to the guard captain. Holding it aloft she slipped quietly into the blackness the others waiting a moment before the word came back to them.  
"Come."  
Legolas followed the rest of the party in and stood in the middle of a hole in the mountain side that was not much more than a head taller than he, his father would certainly have needed to bend. The floor was covered with a deep layer of what looked to be dust and the smell was faint but unmistakable.  
"War bats." He said softly.  
"Yes," the captain replied, "there is little doubt of it." She shone the lamp around leaving no corner or rocky fold unexplored. "But they left here several springs ago and it seems that it has remained unoccupied since the last inspection. Perhaps it safe to assume they will not come back unless the shadow returns; maybe their honest cousins will take up residence again in time. We hope so."

Legolas nodded and cast another look around the damp stone walls wondering how many bats of death this hole had once been home to. The other elves busied themselves in a further inspection of the inner most recesses and shadows, then, with a shake of their heads, returned to the slopes leaving him and the guard captain alone.

Both stared around in silence, lost in thoughts of the past that they did not share.  
"Are there others like this?" He asked as they too finally returned to the world outside.  
She nodded as she made a mark upon the map.  
"Here in the mountains, yes several, though we have never found any in the forest. But there we have found other indications of the shadow including the deserted lair of wild wolf, though again they are few and we have never found them close to the spider nests. Those lairs are also now abandoned, as are the nests of the black squirrel."  
He frowned.  
"Where have they all gone?"  
The captain shrugged.  
"We do not know my lord, it was more than three springs after the battle before the mountain that the inspection parties first came this far south, and they had fled before we returned. The wild wolf and the bats may have gone out into the brown lands and on to the dead marshes and the Ash Mountains, or so the king surmises, for they have not fled north, west or east."  
Legolas nodded.  
"That seems most likely for I heard no reports of them being seen in the wider world, not in the Wild or further south or west."  
"The let us hope that is the case. As for the squirrel they may have moved further south within the forest, perhaps even as far as Dol Gulder itself, though we are little concerned with them. The spiders are more of a conundrum for there is nowhere for them to have gone to, it seems unlikely that they could cross either the open lands or the river without help and the nearest place for them to hide is many miles away from the forest. It may be that they have retreated below ground or that they also have made their way south."  
"Then let us hope they stay there." He said with a smile as they turned and began the climb down.

In the early morning of the fifth day when the sun was barely risen that he stood alone on a rocky outcrop, map in hand, and looked north towards his father's halls and debated with himself upon the future. Beneath and around him the swathes of trees seemed undisturbed, and daylight was once again finding its way into the glades and avenues amongst them, so if the creatures of the dark remained in the forest they were probably penned within these mountains. If that were the case it would take an army to find them and great risks would be involved in dislodging them. In time, if Sauron once again grew in power, they might return but for the moment it seemed best to let them sleep.

Yet as he looked across the forest towards the stands of giant Oak and Beech around the palace, to the part of Mirkwood that their efforts had preserved and kept unsullied, he found that he, like his father, did not believe all danger to be past, nor that the creatures of the shadow would continue to sleep. Deep inside him something that had been dim flared suddenly brighter and for the first time since a snowy street in Dale the shadows that lurked in the future seemed more important to him than the shadows of the past; and the hopes of the forest more pressing than his hopes for himself. He felt a surge of determination run through him and he smiled grimly, he would continue to hope for the best but his father was right and they must remain on their guard. If the shadow returned they must not be taken unawares.

XXX

The evening meal was over and camp fires were being prepared for the night when two elven guards came and indicated that Andias should follow them. He rose quickly, not wishing to be seen to be un-cooperative, but he could not help the protest that escaped his lips when the guards indicated that Esamrith should also come and bring the child with her. Some the members of this elvish company appeared to speak a form of his language but these two did not seem to be of their number and simply stared at him with apparent incomprehension.  
"Best go with them." Esamrith told him quietly, "they have offered us no harm this far so why should they do so now? There must be a reason they wish for me to come too, and so late in the day, no doubt we will find it if we go."  
With a sigh he nodded and indicated to the soldiers that they would follow.

He was not sure what he had expected but he was greatly surprised when they led him across the camp and towards the shelter he had come to understand was the king's tent. Lamps flared at each corner yet even so the golden sheen of it was subdued in the flickering light, but the structure had a resilient elegance he was coming associate with elves. The tent was closed and guards stood at intervals around it with a pair standing either side of what looked to be the entrance. Their escort approached this and signalled that they should wait then spoke softly to the sentry in what he now recognised to be elvish; the sentry nodded then turned to face the tent and spoke in the same language in a slightly louder voice. The flap of the tent was pushed aside and another elf appeared, this one not was not dressed in armour and wore no weapon but Andias quickly dropped his gaze for he did not look pleased to see them. The unarmed elf looked across at them and after a long moment said something to the sentry and returned inside holding back the tent flap as he did so. The two who had brought them ushered them forward and across the threshold then stood back and allowed the tent flap to fall closed.

Hesitantly Andias stepped forward into the light leaving Esamrith standing behind him. The elf who had met them seemed to be a servant of the king for he paid no further attention to them instead going to stand beside a long table on which was a platter of nuts and winter berries, adding to it from a bowl that stood to one side.

At a table beneath a tall brazier filled with flaming wood the king was seated in a high backed wooden chair of an intricate design, listening to the report of one of the captains of the company. As Andias moved he looked up and raised a hand to indicate that they should remain where they were and continued his conversation with the soldier.

Obediently Andias halted and waited, his eyes fixed upon the seated king; though he was much fascinated by the window into the lives of elves offered by this tent he had learned long ago that open curiosity could be seen as offence and he had no desire to risk that with Esamrith and child behind him. For though this Elven lord had taken pity upon them when he could have killed them, and had behaved with unlooked for kindness and generosity when they had no call upon him, he was still a king and would expect to be given his due. But there could be no offence in quietly and respectfully observing the one who had summoned him, and so he waited with eyes lowered but not so much that he couldn't take further stock of this elf on who he was dependent and to whom he had not spoken to since being brought to this camp. Beside him Esamrith rocked the child and looked around her in childlike wonder at things that she, like he, had never encountered before, until her gaze also came to rest upon the one they waited for.

The king was no longer in armour and instead wore a plain coat of a cloth such as Andias had never seen, its sheen like the morning dew on a newly unfurled leaf. Over it he wore a robe of a richness that even the lamp light could not hide; yet again it was plain and without the gems and golden trims the lords of his homelands would wear. The beauty here lay in the weave of the cloth and the colour of the thread, and he recalled hearing long ago that the elves were very skilled at such things and took delight in creating them. This king's dress seemed to suggest that that story at least was true. He wore the crown and had several rings upon his long fingers but he wore no other gems or ornaments beside a strangely fashioned pin at his throat. Yet despite the unadorned nature of his dress he remained the most regal figure the man of the further east had ever seen, or could imagine. It occurred to him that Esamrith was right and this king was an ancient story come to life, and he wondered what his palace was like and if they would ever see it.

The captain appeared to finish his report but remained beside the table as the king beckoned them forward saying something to the soldier who inclined his head and took a stool from the corner of the tent setting it before the table; with a graceful wave of his hand the king indicated that Esamrith should sit. Frozen for a moment in uncertainty neither of them moved and the unarmed elf moved passed them and placed the platter on the table beside the king, moving a stack of papers to do so, and giving them a long hard look as he turned and went back to fill a wine jug. The king cast him an odd look and sighed and beckoned them forward again.  
"Come." he said with a trace of impatience indicating once again that Esamrith should sit upon the stool.  
Wide eyed she obeyed him holding the child closely and tightly upon her lap.

The king looked towards the man standing before him, leaning back in his chair and subjecting him to a long, hard, stare. Finally, as if satisfied by what he saw, he spoke again.  
"Andias of the Easterlings, I take you to be the leader of your people and I shall deal with you as such and hold you accountable for their actions, do you contest this?"  
Andias blinked in surprise, for this was unexpected, and he drew a deep breath before he answered.  
"No my lord, we agreed when you brought us here that I shall speak for all."  
The king inclined his head slightly.  
"Very well. Tomorrow your party will be escorted to the toll point at the river crossing, a journey of several days if the weather remains good though it may take longer. There is a small settlement of both men and elves there and I have sent instructions that you are to remain within the settlement until your future is decided. Do not fear for your safety on the road for your women, sick and children will travel in the carts and I am sending an escort with you. The captain here, "he waved a hand in the direction of the waiting soldier, "will be your protector and you may trust your safety to him with confidence provided you obey his orders and prohibitions without question or delay."

The unarmed elf set a wine bowl before the king, who for some reason looked at it with disfavour and said something in elvish before resuming his instructions to Andias.  
"As you have been told I have requested sanctuary for you within the town on the lake and if that request is accepted the Master of the Lake town will send an escort to take you there. If the Master cannot provide what you need then you will remain at the toll point whilst I request shelter for you in Dale."

Andias bowed.  
"Yes, my Lord we will go where you send us and trust to the goodwill of those into whose care you place us."  
The king inclined his head slightly.  
"Good. Those who take you will know that I expect them to deal with you fairly and I expect your people to cause no hurt or alarm to others there, either now or in the future. As I have said, I will hold you responsible for any commotion or trespass that is caused."  
Andias gave a small smile.  
"You need have no concern for that my Lord we look only for peace and a place to raise our families. None of us would wish to cause you regret in any way for there are no words to express our gratitude for the kindness you have shown us."  
A faint smile drifted across the Elvenkings face at that and his answering words came as a surprise to the two before him.  
"I do not ask for your gratitude, nor do I wish for it." His tone was hard, even cold and his smile took on a bitter tinge. "It is my experience that such gratitude all too easily turns to resentment and ill will."  
Andias and Esamrith watched him in silence and after a moment he continued.  
"Loyalty to those who give you shelter, that I do require of you, and I will support those who would deal with you harshly should you fail in that."  
Andias shook his head.  
"We will not my Lord! .Peace is all we want."  
He hesitated and the king looked at him with raised brows recognising there was something else he wished to ask. Drawing another deep breath the easterling continued quickly.  
"But I would ask on behalf of all my fellows that if matters arise that cannot be settled you grant us leave to seek counsel and sanctuary of you."

For a long moment the Elvenking stared at him, an unreadable expression drifting through his blue eyes; then, slowly, he inclined his head.  
"Very well. I will allow that you may, but only if the cause of your discomfort is not of your making."  
He looked across to where Esamrith was watching him closely and in silence, the child pressed against her.  
"And you wife of Andias of the east, what is your name?"  
"Esamrith my Lord."  
"Esamrith. Are there things you would ask for the women and children or for the sick? The journey may be hard despite the carts, is there anything that you require for their succour that has not been provided? The escort will remain with you until a resolution is reached so you need not fear for your welcome or safety. None will offer you insult whilst my guards are present and the men of the Lake have been told that if they accept you into their town I expect that you will treated kindly and be protected should you need to be."

Esamrith smiled and turned the sleeping child upon her lap to face towards the king as if to demonstrate their comfort, speaking firmly as she replied.  
"No my Lord, there is nothing that we need that you haven't given us."  
She stroked her child's head and smiled at the king shyly, for she found herself bemused when she looked at him so beautiful and unknowable did she consider him to be.  
"More than anything we would ever have asked for," she went on softly. "You say it is the way of your kin but when we fled those of our own that would have preyed upon us we could not have expected to find such gentleness from others who know us not. For where we had no hope you have given it to us, and when there was no path we could see to tread that was not dark and bitter you have shown us one that, with time and goodwill, may be light and wholesome. No my Lord there is nothing more that I ask of you, other than that you do not find our gratitude a burden for I cannot help but feel it."

Andias held his breath unsure of how her unguarded words would be taken, and though he did not fear for her safety he thought this king might repudiate her thanks and speak harshly of her presumption. Yet for a moment the Elvenking was silent staring at her and the child and his eyes bore the far away look that Andias had seen out on the mountain slope, then in the blink of an eye the distant look was gone and the king smiled, a soft and gentle smile unlike any they had seen from him so far, a smile that deepened the blue of his eyes, and his voice matched it when he spoke.  
"Esamrith of the Easterlings if you can speak so fairly to the men of the Lake then I do not doubt you future will be light and wholesome, for so honest and bright a heart will always find friends. Your thanks are accepted and your gratitude is no burden. Take your children in peace and may you make a good life for them."

With that he inclined his head and the soldier beside him indicated that they should leave. Andias bowed and put his hand on Esamriths arm as she rose, then, to his surprise, she took their sleeping daughter's hand and put it first against her childish heart before extending it out towards the Elvenking. Andias saw his eyes widen in surprise before she pulled the child's hand back and bowed low saying softly.  
"I have seen your kin do that my Lord, I trust I understood it aright and have not offended."  
There was a momentary silence and she looked at him in sudden alarm. Catching her look the king smiled slightly and inclined his head.  
"Perhaps you misunderstood a little, but do not be alarmed the deed is taken as intended and there is no offence. I wish your child a peaceful life."

Without further words they were led away.

Galion returned to the kings table and removed the flagon of watered wine and replaced it with water as instructed, if his lord preferred either one or the other then so it should be. After all it was he who had instructed that the easterlings were given wine and he knew that such supplies were always running low this point in a tour. Yet he didn't think it was the matter of wine that had brought the reflective and slightly sad look to the kings face, he rather thought it was the action of the easterling women. But it was not his concern.  
"My lord, Is there anything else that you require?"  
After a moment the king shook himself out of his reverie and flipped a dismissive hand.  
"No Galion you may go, but I wish to be on the road within an hour of dawn so make sure that all is ready."

He watched as the elf left and then continued to stare at the tent flap with a frown.  
'I would like to believe that any that come west from the further east will be so honest and innocent,' he thought to himself, 'and that all the problems that come with them will be so easily resolved, but I do not. No I most certainly do not. When the shadow comes the old enemies will return too and I wonder if it will be you Andias, or a descendant of yours as yet unborn, that will need to take up arms beside me to defend the refuge to flee to from those you have left behind.'

He pushed the thought away, and rising rolled up the maps and stowed them in the appropriate chest. Tomorrow he would turn south towards the meeting with Legolas in hope that all had gone well and that they had a little time of peace remaining.

XXX

On the seventh day after they first came into the shadow of the mountains they passed beyond the last outlying peak and forded the river, now they returned to the forest paths as they headed west towards the edge of Mirkwood. They had made good time and the spirits of the company were high, with the mountains behind them and the last leg of the outward journey begun the company sat their mounts more easily, laughed more frequently and conversed more often and more openly. Legolas was careful to play his part, chatting and smiling and joining in the story telling as he would have done in the days before the dwarves came, steadfastly stamping down on the dark thoughts when they threatened to surge up and overwhelm him. There were times when it was hard, when he felt as if his jaw would break from the effort of maintaining his smile, when a careless word or look set him down the dark road of wondering about his fate and his future. Yet the lamp that had rekindled in him in the mountain paths remained bright and as he settled into this new play he found it easier to halt the pull of the black thoughts.

The trees were thinner as they headed towards the edge of the forest and the carpet of snow and ice thickened again. But all around were the signs of light chasing away shadow, small brooks ran between the trees, the water clear and sparkling, deer ran through the glades disturbed by their passing and boar snuffled in the thicker undergrowth. At one point the party halted transfixed as a family of white deer moved out of the shadows and stood glowing in a shaft of sunlight as they inspected the travelling party before turning slowly away as if realising these travellers held no danger for them. Legolas wondered how long it had been since the white deer, so loved and revered by his people, had ventured this far south.

As the journey progressed and the number of nests and lairs marked abandoned increased he discovered that the pretence of ease was slowly being transformed into something real. That some sense of balance was returning to him, and while it did not remove the guilt or grief its clamour was daily more subdued. The life of the camp, the discussions of others lives and hopes, the small acts of friendship and comradeship given and received stirred past feelings and memories that held no bitterness, bringing him the first echoes of old feelings of belonging.

They had one more inspection to perform before they rejoined the king's party for the sweep through the thickest spider infestations and the final trek home. But this nest, so his father had told him before they set out, was believed to be the place in which the spiders that arrived in the Woodland from Mordor had first established themselves. How they had arrived was something as yet unexplained and so there was no marker that could be used to decide how and when they might spiders remained above ground it may well be here that they would be found.

They advanced with great caution, slowly circling towards the dense stands of trees that had housed one of the largest spider nests with arrows ready and knives drawn. Other elves were stationed further out into the wood to warn if anything sought to come up behind the advancing inspection party.

Legolas took his place within the advancing guard with a sense of familiarity that both pleased and horrified him, 'when' he found himself wondering, 'had mortal danger become the usual way to live for his people and for how much longer must it be the case.' As they reached the perimeter of the great nest he was struck by a sudden fleeting memory of Imladris, serene and untroubled in the sun, and he had to fight down a great surge of bitterness that so little help had come from others when they most needed it. For he doubted that should the shadow return there would be more any greater help than they had known this last millennia. He drew a deep breath and pushed the memory away, calling out a warning to be alert as they crossed the first decaying filaments of the outer walls of the nest and stepped into the deeper shadows that had hidden its heart.

Within that heart was a strange world of tattered web curtains, remaining flexible and sticky in places, and strange distorted shadows. The remains of past prey still lay in odd corners but most had already been salvaged by other forest creatures or taken away for burial by the earlier inspection parties. But there was still an air of malice, faint now but not yet gone, and Legolas was glad that the first inspections of this place had not fallen to him and wondered who his father had chosen to accompany him into this nest of horrors.

Yet for all their wariness it was as he had been told, this, like all the other spider nests they had inspected was abandoned and quickly falling into decay. Further from the centre there was little sign of what had been here, a few twisted branches had been dislodged by the winter winds, and the leaf litter beneath their feet was black and slightly sticky, but soon there would be nothing to show that anything other than the forest had ever existed here.

The signs of returning life could be seen even here, and all around them the trees, still fir for the most part, showed signs of renewed vigour, their needles glowing deep green in the winter light. There were the sounds of small animals moving in the bushes again, the occasional bird flew through the tree tops and the scent of pine resin was again upon the wind, sharp and clean and heady. There was a feeling of vigour in the air too, as if the force of life and light was once again infusing the land. The deep shadows were banished and the bright winter light flooded across the slopes and valleys with unalloyed joy.

With the final inspection completed they turned west again and travelled through the thinning trees until they reached the forest edge and could look out across the flat lands towards the high ridges and walls of the Misty Mountains. There they made camp, sending out swift scouts to inspect the open land for sign of wolf or spider but they returned with nothing to report. The parties scouting back amongst the trees for damage to ditch and coppice also passed off without incident. Truly it seemed that the shadow had retreated.

They rested at the forest edge for three days as the scouts did their work, watched by bird and beast but with their peace interrupted by nothing more than another snow storm. By the time they turned north again a new pattern of the days and nights had been established and hope was rising in all the party that another fair year lay before them. Now the songs that drifting out from the camp and echoed through the trees were joyful, telling of spring and summer, of life reawakened, of the sun dancing on waterfalls and the warmth glowing on leaf and flower. Above them the chilly skies of winter spread out ice shard stars but their thoughts were turning to bright moons on warm, blue velvet, nights.

For Legolas something else had changed for he no longer considered each remark made or scrap of conversation overheard as a judgment upon him, in fact he had reached a point where many hours might pass without the past disturbing him at all. As they north towards the forest road and rendezvous with his father's party he realised that coming home might not be impossible after all


	15. Chapter 15 Rendevous

**Rendezvous**

On the fourth day after they made camp at the edge of the forest Legolas was woken just after dawn by the raucous call of a raven. He staggered out of his tent rubbing his eyes and slipping on the frosty ground halting abruptly as he came eye to beady eye with the large black bird that had settled itself upon the tent rope.

He looked at it for a long moment in uncertainty for the bird's near unblinking gaze seemed to carry some meaning, and after a second or so of silence he moved closer to it and said softly.  
"Yes? You have some business with me bird of the high trees?"

The raven cocked its head and cawed at him. Legolas swallowed, for here was another and unexpected reminder of the things that he had lost. Once, in the time before the battle in Dale, this bird's thoughts' would have been open to him and now they were not. The realisation stung his soul and stirred the dark imp within him but he closed his mind to the pain and distress, he would not dwell on this reminder of his further loss when it was clear a message was being delivered, and one that might be of some importance. With a slight sigh he bowed his apology to the bird and called out to the guard captain who had just appeared from out of the shadows.  
"It is clear this is a messenger but I seem to have lost my understanding of their dialect in my time in the wider world for I cannot resolve the message." He said to her with a soft smile.  
The smile was returned.  
"Not surprising my lord for this one is young and has only ever conversed with your father and his guard, but I will see if I can speak with it if you wish it?"  
"Please do," he sighed ruefully, "it would seem that I have forgotten many things in my time upon the road, short though it was."

The guard captain moved closer to the bird and met its' gaze as it tilted its head towards her.  
"I think I read the message, though like you I find the structure of the meaning strange  
"So what, then, is it trying to tell us?"  
She looked back to Legolas.  
"If I read it aright, then your father and his company have been delayed by two days, I can not read why, if indeed the bird knows the reason, but they expect to be turning onto the road home within the next day. The king wishes to know if there have been any delays with our company or whether we are ready to return also."  
Legolas smiled and bowed to the bird who was carefully watching the exchange between the two elves, its head turning from one to the other with a glimmer of purple on its black plumage as it did so.  
"We are ready." He said and wondered if the bird would understand him.

It seemed that it did for it fixed its yellow eyes upon him for a moment and then it bowed to him and gave a short call before gathering itself up and spreading its' wide purple wings. Then the bird rose up into the air, for a moment it seemed to hover above Legolas as if committing him to memory before it climbed quickly, wheeling north towards the direction of his father's party.

Legolas watched it go for a moment and then he turned towards the guard captain.  
"I think we take that as meaning the message is on its way. After breakfast we will break camp and head towards the elven road and the meeting with the King's party."  
She smiled and bowed slightly.  
"Yes my Lord, and from there home. If the remaining spider nests are as empty as those we have seen so far, we will back at the palace by the new moon."  
Legolas's smile widened.  
"Just in time for the last feast day of the winter; that should please Galion."  
"Yes my Lord and many of our own party too."  
He shot her an enquiring glance and she smiled and shrugged.  
"More than one of our number have intentions to stand before your father at the spring kissing bough, at such times returning home quickly is more than usually important."  
He laughed and nodded.  
"Then let us hope that our message is safely on its way and that nothing happens to further delay my father."

XXX

The sun was showing a hazy gold above the black fingers of the winter trees when the raven returned to Thranduil's camp. The Elvenking had already seen the Easterlings despatched towards the river toll with their escort and he was sat in his carved chair, not yet in armour, with a platter of honeyed bread and water before him on a map strewn table. The bird flew low through the camp and into the tent through the flap that had been left open for that purpose and alighted upon the pile of books that anchored the corner of the map nearest to the king.

Thranduil looked up from his study and smiled, then sitting further back into his chair he met the bird's yellow gaze.  
"Well? Do you have an answer for me?" He asked softly.  
The raven tossed its head and cawed. He leaned forward to better look into its eyes for a moment before he sat back again with another satisfied smile.  
"Good."  
Then as suddenly as it had dawned his smile dimmed and uncertainty flitted across his face; the bird seemed to feel it, and what lay behind the new expression, for it hopped forward and rubbed its beak against the hand that rested upon the maps giving a gentle caw as it did so. Thranduil raised that hand and with one finger gently stroked the blue black plumage.  
"Do you have more that you can tell me my friend? What of Legolas himself? You are young it is true but you have seen enough of elves to read the feelings of his mind and heart, if not the thoughts that lie behind them." He asked quietly.

The bird raised its head and turned to look at him before laying it against the outstretched hand again. Thranduil relaxed and let his mind open further to accommodate the message the bird offered. The bird did not see the world as an elf did but it could read the shapes of the feelings that elf was wrapped in and see too the shape it made as it moved through the world. Thranduil concentrated on the picture he was being shown, the picture of the world as it existed around his son and how it flexed with the light streaming out from him. As he let the image of his son as the bird had seen him form he felt a sense of warmth as some of his own fears were banished. There was no well of grief there, no pit of despair, no tears or overbearing sorrow, the bird had felt no darkness around his son, other than some lingering uncertainty and a slight shadow that seemed contained within a growing light.

He drew a deep breath and inclined his head towards the raven.  
"Thank you my friend. Perhaps we make progress and the bitter cold retreats. It remains to be seen if it is truly the first shoots of a new spring, but let us hope so."  
The bird spoke again and once more rubbed its head again the Elvenking's hand. Thranduil smiled again and stroked the feathered head one more time before reaching forward to take a sliver of meat from a platter he had had brought to his tent for the purpose, he offered it to the bird with a respectful inclination of his head. It took it with great courtesy and delicacy, as it took every other slice that was offered to it until the platter was empty. Then it carefully wiped its beak on its folded wing and looked back at the Elven king in expectation.

He inclined his head towards it.  
"Go in peace then," he told it softly, "and return to your nest and your mate before the chill deepens again."  
With another bow and a short call of farewell the bird took wing and glided out of the tent, through the camp and up towards the tree tops.

Thranduil rose and went to issue the order to prepare to move before returning to his tent and resuming his seat and his scrutiny of the maps. The line of spider nests that still remained to be checked ran through the middle of the forest to the side of the elf road and up to the edges of the forest river, and these had been some of the nests most quickly deserted. He hoped that remained the case and that the inspections could be concluded without incident or delay, in which case they could be home before the new moon. He had no real doubt that this would prove true for these were the nests closest to the lands he had held against the shadow and his influence had spread quickly once Sauron had left Dol Gulder.

As Legolas and his company had not been delayed he could hope that the areas towards the mountains were also clear of the shadow and that the forest would continue to recover from the darkness. If his son was also finding his sense of himself again then there was much to be grateful for.

Not all danger was passed on either count however for the darkness might yet return to Dol Gulder as Sauron grew stronger, particularly if he despatched one of his dark servants to take residence there. As for the road home, the nests before them were those closest to where the dwarves of Thorin's company had been captured and so might carry hidden dangers for his son. He could not be sure what this last stage of the journey would mean for Legolas's mood or for others of the company.

For, whilst much progress had been made, there were still those amongst his people who would not yet forgive his son. Though he did not fear Legolas's physical safety he remained uncertain of how well his strength of mind would cope with unkind words or challenges despite the brave messages of the raven.

It had been brought home to him before they had set out that there were those in the wider population of Mirkwood for whom the wounds of Legolas's conduct ran deep. When one of his equerry had come to him and reported that two of those allocated to Legolas's party had requested that they be excused the duty. He had pressed for their reasons with some inward trepidation but if their commander had seen it he gave no sign, just reported that he too had wondered at the request and had asked to know the reasons. Having heard them out their commander had reallocated them to the king's party but had felt it right that the king should know.

It seemed that the two had been amongst those who fought in the streets on the outskirts of Dale and had see Legolas pass by them on the way to Ravenhill; at a time that he had passed been particularly hard pressed and though Legolas had despatched one of the creatures that assailed them as it crossed his path he had continued following of Tauriel. The two elves in question had seen this and could not understand why he had done so, or forgive him for it. The death of Bolg had convinced them of the value of his actions and reconciled them to his actions to some degree, but they had lost close friends at that time of the battle and the grievance was not resolved sufficiently for them to wish to risk their lives in his company.

In that moment Thranduil's heart had been torn, whilst he was glad that his soldiers had felt able to make such a request he was also deeply sad that they had the wish to. He had agreed to the change of rosta, and he had made no attempt to discover who these elves were, but it had caused him to wonder if he had underestimated the extent to which knowledge of Legolas's actions had spread, and the degree of bitterness that might be festering still. No, the danger was not yet passed and he would not be truly easy about Legolas until they were once more within his Halls.

But there was nothing that he had not done that he could do in the matter, he would not send his son back into the wilderness and so he must trust to the kindliness of his people and his own vigilance. Legolas's willingness to resume past activities and so be seen to commit himself to the people of Mirkwood once more would be vital. There was no reason to doubt that commitment would be forthcoming, for his son wanted to reclaim what he had lost so very much. If challenged he had no doubts that Legolas would freely admit his fault without excuse and as long as he would do that in time all but the most grievously wronged would forgive. It could have been worse; indeed for a while he had feared that it was.

"My Lord?"  
A voice close to him broke the chain of thought and he turned to see Feren beside him.  
"Are we ready to leave?" he asked.  
"Not quite, some of the remaining supplies are being re-packed to accommodate the reduction in the number of carts. But we will be soon."  
"Good, if the weather is kind we should be at the gate by the third sundown."  
"Yes Sire, do you wish us to leave a rider here in case of messages from the men of the Lake or Dale?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"No, there is no need. I expect no reply before we reach home. If one comes sooner the Easterlings will remain at the toll until it reaches me. Continue packing and send Galion to me."  
"My Lord." The elf lord bowed slightly and strode away.

Thranduil watched him go with a slight look of sadness. His equerry was one of those who would never entirely forgive Legolas, and perhaps with good cause, but he had a kindly spirit and would not make his distrust uncomfortably obvious and should the day come when his son's life depended upon Feren's aid he had no doubt that it would be given. There was little else he could in fairness ask.

With a sigh he went to ready himself for the ride to the meeting place.

XXX

Three days of easy travel brought Legolas and his company to the appointed meeting point just south of the entrance to the elven road. The weather was still bitter and snow continued to drift across the flat lands from both north and west. To avoid the worst of it they sheltered within the fringes of the forest where their horses could find refuge from the knife edged wind. They knew it would at least two days before the king's party could arrive and, if the snow further north increased, then it might be longer still, but with supplies running low they hoped not. Elves might cope with short rations but their horses would find it harder. Many of the supply wagons were empty now and so they did not pitch tents instead huddling down within the carts to rest and talk and sing songs of home and spring.

Spring! Looking around him Legolas could not see any sign of it but he knew that it was no longer distant. One more cycle of the moon and the sun would warm, the ice would start to melt and the freezing fogs would be replaced by gentler mists, then the canopy of bare black branches above them would sprout green and yellow and silver. Then more his people would move out of the Kings Halls and back to their houses within the forest and the songs would echo through the trees again and wind their way through the breezes in the tree tops. The thought brought a smile to his lips and stoked the warming light within him.

But spring would also mean the need to visit the men of the lake and Dale, and the thought of that city could still wrap a chill around his heart. But no so deep a chill as it had been. Even the thought of seeing her didn't carry the same rush of grief that once it had, the grief that he had thought would never leave him. Deep within him the imp still struggled but with every day that passed its struggles grew weaker and it became easier to force it to be silent. Yet in that same deep place he knew that some sliver of hope remained, some wild belief that she would forget the dwarf and put aside whatever feelings she had for him. Yet even that hope was fading and with remarkably little pain, though it was not yet gone and there was still a wistful tug when he thought of her as he had last seen her on Ravenhill.

Which was why Legolas left the camp alone early on the second day of the encampment and walked north through the tree line towards the elven path. To his left the open land stretched out towards the swollen river and the mountains, still topped with snow and wreathed in black cloud that did not bode well for the weather later in the day, and to his right the bare black branches of the trees moved restlessly in the wind. Behind them lay the last spiders nests to be checked but in the early light there was no sign of the unnatural shadow that had lain across the forest at this point before Sauron was banished.

They were camped not half a mile for the entrance to the elven path and it took him no time at all to cover the ground and find himself standing at the point where the path met the plain.

For a moment he hesitated, wondering if it would not be better if he turned around and returned the way he came, but he knew that was not true. When his father arrived both parties would enter the forest by this gate and it was better that any lingering grief he might feel was faced before that moment arrived. So he drew a deep breath and turned his back on the river and looked inwards towards the forest. If what they had said had been the truth then this was where Thorin and his company had come into his father's realm, and it was here that Mithrendir had left them to set off for his fateful appointment at Dol Guldar. It was here that they had been warned to stay on the path and to avoid the enchanted river, warnings they had ignored. How far from here they had been when they first strayed from the path he could not know but it was here that their trespass began.

After his time in the wider word, brief though it had been, he no longer wondered why his father had been so concerned at their arrival, so determined to know their purpose. Now he saw that as his father's power protected their borders from the reality of the strengthening shadow so he must have felt the shifting of the world as the evil in the south grew. In such a situation any strange event or unexpected traveller would have been met with the same caution. If only Thorin or his company had been honest about their purpose, polite even, but they had not. The arrogance of dwarves was well known and it seemed that Thorin in particular had possessed that vice, for he had been both surly and obstructive. After his eavesdropping on the mountain road Legolas was willing to accept that his own conduct might have played some part in their hostility but he knew that there had been more to it than that. For though he had not been present when Thorin and his father met he had heard the whispers amongst the guards of the dwarf's rant, for that was how they described it, the dwarf shouting and cursing though they knew nothing of what was said. Legolas had never managed to discover the truth of it either, for when he had asked about the substance of the confrontation his father had become tight lipped and silent merely waving his questions about Thorin's taunts away with the remark that it was of no importance.

The only answer he had got was a single cryptic comment after the others were taken and that was to the effect that they would do well to reconsider their plans as their association with Thorin would do them no good for he would no doubt succumb to dragon sickness if he managed to get into the mountain, as he was already mad. Though however pressed to explain his father had refused to be drawn on what he meant by mad.

Now little of that seemed to matter, from what his father had told him it seemed that Thorin had indeed succumbed to dragon sickness, willing to wage an unnecessary war in his lust for gold. Not even the claims of the men of Dale and the Lake, just as they were, had not swayed him from his belligerent posture and the matter could never have ended well, for Thorin had been ready to become the thief that Bard had suggested. The coming of the dark army had saved his honour and allowed him to redeem his name, for in the end he had fought and died bravely enough to wipe out all other memories. Now he was buried as a king within his mountain and no doubt sat with honour and dignity amongst his brethren in whatever Halls of waiting were reserved for his kind. Legolas looked up at the grey sky with its threat of more snow and drew a deep breath, he regretted the manner in which he had addressed the dwarves when they were taken now, but there was little he could do to change it. However the ways of Eru could not be understood by those within the world and perhaps he and Thorin might meet again at the end of the world and make whatever peace remained to be made.

Legolas stepped further into the trees, forcing away the grief at theor silence and rejection of him, and wondered how different things might have been had the dwarfs never come to Mirkwood, would the shadow still be retreating or was the price of their respite always destined to be the losses at the Lonely Mountain? But he knew there was no point in such thoughts and it was becoming easier to discipline them and so he pushed them away and thought instead about where this road led to and of the coming spring.

How long he stood and drifted in formless thoughts he did not know, but a sudden gust of wind pulled at his cloak and he looked out to see the dark clouds closing quickly upon the forest, another snow storm was on its way. With a sigh he pulled up his hood and began the walk back towards the camp.

XXX

The sun was just starting to fall into afternoon when the lookout called out his sighting of the king's party. Legolas had been updating the maps of the south but at the shout he threw down his pen and hurried out.  
"How far?" He called up to the sentinel.  
"An hour or so's march my lord."

Legolas smiled and set to climbing the nearest tree to see for himself. Sure enough his father's party was advancing at a brisk pace along the edge of the forest, the king's banners fluttering in the wind beside his father and the banners of the Mirkwood companies strung out behind him. They wore battle armour rather than forest armour and the sun struck gold off the helmets and breastplates of the advancing column. But their pace was easy as if nothing had caused them trouble and the kings guard were strung out behind him rather than at his side as might have been expected had conflict been anticipated.

Yet a sudden cloud seemed to cross the sun as Legolas realised that his father's company appeared demised and that both horses and carts were missing. Fear clutched at him as he watched the approaching column, had his father found spider nests that were occupied, had more of his people been lost to the shadow? But why in the north when the south, though closer to the sources of the darkness, was clean? Or had the weather taken them? The broken land between the forest and the mountains to the north could be treacherous in winter with bitter winds carrying heavy snow sweeping down from the peaks even into early spring. His father seemed unharmed, riding as one accustomed to the saddle, and there was no sense of urgency about their approach, but even so he was sure that not all who had left with the king were returning.

Sudden panic took him, was it truly his father at the head of the line, or had he mistaken it? Surely the Valar would not be that cruel as to take his father to Mandos before his son had had the chance to ease the pain and grief that he had caused and to show that he had truly returned? He turned and quickly climbed higher staring intently at the advancing elven company, shading his eyes with his hand, watching for the glint of light upon the diadem about his father's head that would tell him that the king was still leading the line. Finally he saw the lead rider turn his head to say something to an elf lord behind him and relief flooded Legolas for the easy grace of the gesture was as characteristic of his father as his height and the long pale hair. It was indeed Thranduil riding his great black horse, foolish to have feared that it would not be.

As the sun moved and the clouds built up from the east Legolas continued to sit in the trees and watch the column coming closer. Now he was sure that some were missing, though maybe not so many as he had first feared and there was now no doubt that his father was riding as if whole and unharmed. Legolas sent a silent prayer of thanks for that and another in the hope that those missing were similarly hale and healthy where ever they might be.

Finally as they entered the last straight he slid down to the ground and made his way to the road.

The line had halted at the agreed meeting point and many of his own party had come out from the camp to bid them welcome. Elves milled in all directions, some taking horses away to be fed and brushed down, others still mounted leaning from their saddles to grasp hands with friends or relatives. Quiet joy and laughter was all around him as Legolas made his way through the throng towards the royal banner, noting as he did that more than one he knew was missing and that at least one of the king's guards was nowhere to be seen. Anxiety hit him again, for what could have happened that would have taken one of his father's elf lords from his escort but battle? Yet there was no sign of grief or loss amongst the arriving company, so perhaps there had been an accident of some form, but so many of them? For at least ten he knew well were not amongst the arrivals. But the thought was pushed away as he saw his father look around him, a hint of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hurried towards him without further thought.

Thranduil remained mounted as those around him clasped hands and shoulders in the joy of reunion, looking about him with quiet satisfaction. Those elves of Legolas's party who had come out to greet them were in good spirits with no sign of dark stories to tell or grief to share, no shadow hung about them and their relief, as solid as a wall, was for those returning safely not for a desperate need for reinforcements. On this first sight all appeared to have gone well. So it seemed likely that the southern lands had seen no return of the darkness or its emissaries. As for Legolas himself, there he was, whole and hale, another source of joy, however as he watched his son approach and noted his frown his heart sank. Much could have happened on the road to drive him back into the pit of despair. What had he returned to, what problems waited for them now?

Yet as his son made his way through the milling elves the frown seemed to fade a little; and as he came closer still the king decided that he was composed enough and that the light of him was stronger than any time since he had returned home. Despite that the anxiety was clearly written in his face and there was tension in his stance.

Then Legolas was beside his father, his hand upon the bridle causing his horse to toss his head in protest. Before the king could do more than give his son a searching look the words were pouring out.  
"We heard of the delay but were given no reason for it, now I see that not all of your company are here, have you met with trouble? Are there nests re-populated or did you come upon wandering Orc?"  
A flood of relief ran through the king, for it seemed that Legolas's discomfort was not on his own count but for the party arriving. He smiled and shook his head then he dismounted and put his hand upon his son's shoulder.  
"Nothing so dire, the weather was not kind it is true and there was another small disturbance to be managed but I will tell you of that later. For the moment let us make camp and refresh ourselves and then you and I can talk."

Legolas smiled his renewed relief, his hand coming up to grip his father's fingers.  
"Good news then, I feared worse when I first saw the line. We have a fire and wine already warming for it looks as if the snow is not yet finished with us."  
Thranduil gazed upwards noting the thickening cloud with a slight frown, he gave his son a rueful look.  
"Nor does it and the wind becomes more spiteful. So lead us to this warmed wine of yours and tell me of your news."


	16. Chapter 16

**The End of Winter**

Darkness fell early and the snow arrived with it, yet when the camp was secure, and after they had eaten, the king and his son walked out into the trees alone.

It was Legolas who had asked for the excursion.  
"Surely now it is safe enough for us to walk abroad together," he had said, "perhaps not to travel together on the road but here amongst the trees there can be no danger great enough to prohibit it?"  
Thranduil had been glad of it for it had been many centuries since both he and Legolas could be in the same place outside the palace without being heavily guarded. To take a little time alone with his son beneath the trees was one of the things he had longed for in the darkest days and if this snowy winters night offered such a chance he was more than pleased to take it. Though he suspected that Legolas had something particular he wanted to discuss, an intuition that caused him some trepidation.

But if that was the case it seemed Legolas was content to wait to broach it, which was some reassurance, instead continuing their conversation started beside the fire.  
"Easterlings? Not a welcome development I can see; innocent as these were. If the further east is again restless then their trouble may yet travel west. Can it be connected with Sauron for did not the Elrond say that he fled east when they dislodged him?"  
"He did, and the new unrest may be related to that, though I doubt that Sauron is yet strong enough to be the only source of it. Many of the men of the further east and north were his creatures in the days of the last alliance, as were many in further south, and he made them great promises, none of which came to pass. The south lands are now desolate and Mordar is destroyed but the sons of men whose forefathers fought on the evil's side still hold on to the legends of those promises and believe that one day they will come to pass. They blame each other for the failure to prosper as they believe is their right and their wars are bitter and brutal. As they fight amongst themselves so too does their hatred of others grow and all the more do they covet the lands and treasures of those who live away from the further east. As lords are killed in their petty battles so their dispossessed men will seek new lands to occupy. We must be prepared for that and be ready to despatch them should they seek to invade. But I suspect that no real threat will come unless Sauron gains strength and again gives them hope that the ancient promises can be fulfilled."  
"As you believe that he will."  
"Yes. But not quite yet and there is time to prepare. I have sent letters to both the men of the lake and Dale to put them on their guard. Bard will in turn warn Dain who will have no difficulty in understanding the threat."

The mention of the king under the mountain seemed to pull Legolas's mind back to what he had wanted to say and he sat down upon a tree stump with a faint smile, ignoring the snow now fast settling on their clothes and hair  
"May we speak of things past again?" he asked quietly.  
Thranduil settled himself upon a stump beside him and nodded.  
"If you wish it so. Is there some specific event you desire to speak of?"  
"Both yes and no."

Legolas paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and turned his eyes away from his father, staring into the trees through the haze of snow, as he began to speak.  
"Whilst on the road I overheard a conversation that at the time I wished I had not heard."  
"And now?"  
"Now, having spent much thought on it, I think it providential for it has caused me to look again at things that happened and to see them in a new light."  
His father looked at him with some concern.  
"Does this light change your view of matters past?"  
Legolas smiled faintly.  
"Be easy, for though the insights are uncomfortable they have not overset me .I do not enjoy the picture that was painted by those chance heard words, and I confess that at first they filled me with despair, yet I have come to see that if I am to regain the trust that once was mine then I must face all my transgressions."

Thranduil shot him startled glance.  
"All? What new ones do you imagine?"  
"Not imagine for they were real enough and some of them you may have known nothing of, though they may have shaped events in ways I had not considered."  
He looked around him.  
"It was here that Thorin's company first entered Mirkwood and so I have always thought that the chain of events that led me to Dale started here, but now I wonder if that were true and if the roots of those events did not stretch far further back."  
He fell silent for a moment looking into the trees then he drew a deep breath and turned back towards his father.  
"I ask you to be honest with me again and not spare me for I must know what I have to repair."  
His father gave him an uncertain look his head tilted in the characteristic manner that indicated he was considering options; then he drew a deep breath, settled his robe more neatly about him and nodded.  
"Very well. What would you have me tell you?"

Now the opening was there Legolas did not really know how to continue, but after a moment of uncertainty he asked.  
"I am not sure I know how to phrase the question so forgive me if the words seem vague, but had I changed at all in the time before the dwarves came? Was there anything about my conduct that you noticed and that you felt to be strange or that gave cause for unease?"  
The king felt his heart sink, for he thought he knew where this train of questions would lead them, but he strove to keep his voice dispassionate as he replied.  
"Changed? In what manner do you mean?"

Legolas was suddenly sure that his father knew what he meant but was unwilling to continue. However having started he felt he must go on,  
"Well…., on looking back I was unnecessarily disparaging to members of Thorin's company when we took them captive, and in a manner that cannot be defended for the taunts were personal and in no way related to them being trespassers in our lands. Yet I was not aware of my conduct at the time. Also…" he hesitated, for this next question was harder to ask than any since he returned home, "had I become critical of your actions as either my father or my king, in some manner other than in the openness we have always shared and that you have encouraged?"

Thranduil looked at him for a moment then sighed.  
"Is this what you overheard, that others had noticed such things?"~  
Legolas shook his head.  
"Not directly but the comments suggested that I had changed in some way, that I was unlike myself, that I had become,,,,, less kind, more aggressive and intolerant of others and their actions. That which I overheard implied that I had been so for some time, that the insults I offered Thorin's company were not a momentary aberration brought about by the fight with the spiders or by their trespass on our lands but part if a wider change in my conduct that extended even to those who knew me well. That which was said claimed that I was impatient and thoughtless even towards those who had called me friend. Is it true? Had you noticed such changes?"  
He saw a look of pain cross his fathers face, a ripple of expression that disappeared so quickly he might have imagined it, yet he did not think he did. His father turned his eyes away towards the shadows as the silence stretched. A rising wind made the tree branches moan and toss as Legolas continued to stare at his parent with a growing concern for surely this silence was the response, and the one he had feared.

Finally his father spoke, his words slow and measured but with a faint hint of emotion in which Legolas thought he heard hurt.  
"It is true that in the season or two before the coming of Thorin you had become more distant, colder and less content. The light and warmth that had been yours since your earliest days seemed to fade and with it your joy in life, and it is true perhaps that you became more impatient and harsh as a result. I thought you unhappy but could do nothing to remedy the matter though I believed that I knew its cause and grieved for it."  
Legolas made no attempt to hide from the implication of his father's words.  
"Tauriel."  
"Yes, Tauriel, or rather your growing fondness for her. It should have brought you both joy but it did not seem to do so, and it did not take me long to see the reason. That, though she cared for you as a comrade and a brother, she did not reciprocate your fondness in the manner that you wished."  
Legolas smiled sadly.  
"Was it so clear to you then?"  
Thranduil nodded.  
"You are my son and I love you, of course I saw what you were feeling. As for her, well as I have said before a king must learn to read the hearts of people and I had known her for most of her life"  
"Known her and cared for her. You had been as a father to her so I would not be surprised if she had confided in you."  
There was both sadness and weariness in his voice causing his father to reach a hand towards him in reassurance.  
"But she did not! Legolas I assure that she never spoke of it to me, but I could not help but see your care for her."  
"Yet you were sure that she could not care for me as I wished, how were you so certain if you did not speak of it?"

Thranduil hesitated for a moment unsure of much of his knowledge of the matter he should disclose, but seeing the sadness in his son's face he decided it was best that the doubts and false hopes at least should be finally laid to rest. He sighed and drew his cloak more firmly about his shoulders for the snow was falling heavily now.  
"She volunteered nothing and I did not broach the matter with her for some time though I continued to watch you both closely in the hope that I would see some change in either your feeling for her or in her affection for you. But what I observed brought me no comfort for I could see no sign that she felt for you as I was sure you were staring to feel for her. Then an opportunity arose and on impulse I took it. Perhaps I should not have done so, perhaps it was presumptuous of me, but I needed to be sure, and if there was a chance that she might reciprocate your affection but felt forced to hide it for some reason then I wished to know, to reassure her. So when this chance occurred I told her that I had noticed your growing fondness for her."  
Legolas fixed his eyes on his father's face with a painful intensity.  
"What was her response?" he asked softly.  
Seeing the look, in which hope, though faint, still lingered Thranduil decided that the full truth of that exchange was better not shared even now. How could he tell him the truth knowing what had followed  
from it?

He recalled the moment so very well. Why had it taken the coming of the dwarves for him to realise the extent of the possible hurt to his son? He had known for sometime of his growing preference for her, and he had suspected her indifference for nearly as long. Yet he had not wanted to believe it, wishing instead to think himself mistaken. Only her behaviour on the day the dwarves were taken had finally shattered that hope and made it impossible to hope for a happy outcome. Her reaction had been swift and unequivocal and had left no room for doubt. He recalled only too well the abrupt death of the soft smile that had lit her face in response to his praise just a moment before, there had been no missing her sudden stiffening, the look of shock that was so close to horror, her immediate and hurried rejection of the idea of it and, when he had been unable to hide his disappointment and annoyance, her final attempt to lay the responsibility for her rejection of his son at his door. No, he would not burden Legolas with those details, but perhaps a paler version of them would do.

He shrugged slightly.  
"She seemed truly surprised, and said that she was sure you thought of her as no more than a captain in the guard, a comrade and sister in arms only. I did not doubt that the idea of any other relationship was completely novel to her and that her feeling for you, deep thought they were, were not the same as those you were developing for her. I knew then that had she been your destiny she would have known your care for her and felt some similar tenderness. I confess that I was disappointed that she seemed so surprised and perhaps I did not hide it well, but you are my son and I hated knowing that you would be hurt, however innocent the cause might be. Then the dwarf came and of the rest you know as much of as I do."

Legolas turned his eyes back to the snow coated forest.  
"How was I so wrong?" He asked quietly. "Elves do not make such mistakes, the sons of men might but we are not made that way. What then is lacking in me that I could want so badly one who was not destined for me?"  
Thranduil had wondered on the meaning of that mistake everyday since he had first seen her indifference and feared he knew what it might mean, but that was not a conversation for this moment.  
"I doubt that it has never happened before," he said softly, "but in this case the circumstances of the occurrence were unusual, had it not been for the dwarf and the mountain and the battle I suspect that you would have come to see the true nature of her feelings and that when you did so your wish for her would have come to a natural end. Then, in time, you would have found your one and have forgotten the matter in the joy of your true bond and your children. As you may yet do."

Legolas sighed.  
"And if I do not?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"Not all do, as you well know, and it is true that Eru may have marked a different path for you, we none of us know where the seasons will take us. But be patient, we are not like mortal men and time is not our enemy. Who knows how many ages you may need to wait but if it is in your destiny it will come. In the waiting there will be the love of kin and friends and comrades and all that lives within the world to sustain you"  
"As it sustains you?"  
"Yes, as it sustains me. There is much to love in the world, even as evil hangs over it."

"And yet…"  
"You wonder what it would have been had the dwarf not come." The king's tone was flat but there was sadness in his eyes. "As I wonder if it would have been better never to have sheltered her. Or if I had found some other place for her other than within my own house."  
Legolas shook his head sending a small cascade of snow tumbling to the floor.  
"Do not think that! I would not have you regret your compassion on my account, nor your care of her because of my foolishness."  
Thranduil looked at him for a long moment then smiled slightly and spoke softly.  
"Perhaps not, but what of my own account? You speak of my compassion and care and it is true, I think, that I was as family to her, as well as her protector, and yet she drew an arrow on me and told me that my life was of no more worth to her than a dwarf she barely knew. She was willing to commit kinslaying, though it is the greatest sin an elf can stoop to, and against me, I have known that evil, suffered and lost to it before, and hoped never to see it again. Yet the threat was clear enough, she truly wished me dead for denying her demand and was willing that it should be by her hand, how would you have me forget that?"

He regretted the bitter words even as they poured out of him, wished them unsaid even before he saw the look of shock settle upon his son's face. Yet he could not deny that he felt a small shiver of relief at that look of horror too, had he doubted Legolas innocence after all? He had not thought so but perhaps some small part of him had. Perhaps that selfish child had done more damage to them both than he would own.

A shadow seemed to move across the world as the memory surged up from the dark place he normally imprisoned it. Could he ever forget the hurt or was it a wound that would lie open and raw for ever?

He had forgiven Legolas even as the sword and the knife of words was wielded but the pain remained seared into his memory. On bad nights it would replay as a constant dream, first her then him, the hurt and grief closing around his heart like a band of enchanted steel, imprisoning his spirit in a veil of cold and darkness. On these nights he would force sleep away and work until dawn pulled him back into the duties of kingship, but on the worst of nights he would wander the Halls alone, remembering the echoes of a past before his son became cold and distant, burning his love and joy of life to grey ash in the service of a worthless mirage. Not even the recollection of seeing his father fall had carried the same bitterness as the moment he had stood in the snow and realised that one he had succoured all her life had had judged him worthless beside one she could not measure at all. But worse still was the dagger of ice that forced its way into his heart as he absorbed the knowledge that his son had stood by and let her do it without comment; that he had only intervened when he thought it necessary to save her.

Now, as on all the occasions he let himself remember, he felt again the desolation that had engulfed him, the sense of loss that was an agony as harsh and physical as a sword thrust. More than that he recalled the sense of cold invading him, of life departing, for his son would have allowed his death at her hand without protest. At that moment he could see no way back for his son at all.

He had stood unmoving in the falling snow, the feeling of hopeless desperation holding him prisoner making it hard even to breath. The world had seemed a black abyss trapping him, echoing with the thought that screamed in his head, the unformed words wiping out all other sound, the realisation that in a moment he had lost his son for ever; that Legolas could never again return home. Her treason and his support of it had been seen and however loyal the watchers might be it could not be kept secret for very long, if Legolas tried to return to Mirkwood he would have to face the law givers and he would be found guilty. For his king that would leave only one choice, to banish him forever. That his king was his father would make no difference; could make no difference, for it was the law and not to do so would break his oath of kingship and tear the Realm apart.

But where would Legolas go? Thranduil closed his eyes against the memory of that thought. Kinslaying and Patricide! Standing there in the hard grey light there had been no hiding from the terror of the realisation of what had been done, that no elven community would take in one guilty of such crimes, whatever the circumstances. Nor were the dwarves or the sons of men any more likely to give him shelter, treason would not be overlooked anywhere, his son was condemned to a life of lonely wandering, and it probably would not be a long life. He could not even be sure that it would be possible for Legolas to sail west, for none would sail with him if they knew the circumstances of his leaving.

For a moment he had stared blindly at the ground wondering if he should put aside the crown to avoid sitting in judgement upon his son if he returned, or if his own death would be the better course. In the turmoil of a king's death his son might escape with the story untold and so find a home amongst other elves in the west or south. Those who had seen might even stay silent so that Legolas could fill the void his death would leave and take up the crown. The battle was not yet over and there were options remaining not to survive it if he chose to take them. He did not fear that, it was the loss of Legolas in such a manner that he did not think that he could face. But what if his guard did not stay silent; or if others had seen? In that case Legolas would still be forced to flee and his people would be left leaderless at a time when they would need to be united.

Then a thought yet more terrible came to him, what would Legolas do if he realised this upon Ravenhill, what reason would he have to wish to survive the battle?

It had been Feren who had pierced his nightmare. He had heard a voice calling to him and had raised his eyes to meet those of his equerry.  
"My Lord, what would you have me do when the company is re-assembled? Do we remain within the City or move back onto the plain to meet the new force or retreat towards the river to regroup? With luck my Lord Legolas will be able to breech their command and without that we may have some chance to scatter them."  
He had marshalled his frozen wits seeing the plea in the other elf's eyes and knowing that the battle was not yet over and there were matters only he could deal with.  
"Yes", his voice had seemed to come from a distance. "Yes, such numbers as are likely cannot be fought within the confines of the city and they are better met where there is room to manoeuvre."  
"My Lord, shall we muster on the bridge then?"  
"Yes. But at the far side, we must not get trapped against the City walls. The people of the city must be removed too, Bard must be warned of what approaches."Still he seemed to be hearing his words from some chamber distant from him.  
Feren had nodded and turned as if to leave, but turned back suddenly and stared at his king for a moment before coming closer to him speaking low and swiftly.  
"My Lord, forgive me if I speak out of turn and touch upon matters of private pain but understand that your son's affection for her is well known and this is not the first time it has led him astray. It is clear that he did not believe her threat to be real. None believe that he would have stood by, or defended her, had he done so."

He had stared in silence for a moment unable to speak and the elf lord had nodded across the alley to a point where the walls were breached.  
"He came through there, it's probably the route she took too, he may have been following her or he may have been looking for you, there is no way to know. He will have heard her earlier words but he appeared very close upon your disarming her."  
Feren must have seen the doubt and pain in his face, for he had been too shattered to hide it at that time, and the elf lord had reached out and placed a hand upon his arm, something he had never done before or since. There was a sad look in his eyes but his expression was calm and certain as he continued.  
"You must believe that he thought her no threat, as I confess nor did I or any that stood behind you, for she is so far from being your equal. Your son is no traitor my lord and he loves you both as his father and his king."

Thranduil remembered his overwhelming desire to believe what he was being told, but also the worry that it might not be true. Only later, after their meeting on Ravenhill, had he allowed himself to fully believe that it was true. He had never asked Legolas what he saw that day nor would he ever do so, though there had been times since his son's return that he had wished to. For his own hurt. though deeply buried, was real and continuing and at times the need to seek re-assurance was almost too great to be borne. He had managed to avoid the temptation however, until now, for that might lead into conversations that he was not yet ready to embark upon.

But perhaps some vestige of doubt had remained; a sliver of fear that only now shrivelled and died at the sight of the dawning understanding in his son's eyes.

"No, oh no," Legolas said softly, "Did you truly believe that to be the case, do you still think it so? Tell me that is not what you saw. If it was then how do you judge my actions? Do you think that I stood by and let her threaten your life without protest? For if it is then how then can I ever make it right between us? Bad enough that I judged swiftly and harshly and thought you threatened her, do not say that I gave you cause to think I would have excused a true threat to your life too. "  
He stared at his silent parent and the look in his father's eyes tore at his heart. For the moment it was truly unguarded and what he saw there ripped away the last vestiges of denial.  
"Yet it must have appeared as if I did just that, why did I not see it before? But truly it was not so, when I heard her angry words I was taken aback but when I saw her standing before you with bow drawn I saw only desperation and grief in her and you acted so swiftly that I did not consider her threat to you as a real one. But perhaps I could not let myself see the truth. I wanted to believe her to be noble, her love real and true, that way I felt that I could bear the loss. In my days of wandering I have held to that even as I came to recognise the enormity of her crime and mine. It is only in these last days while we have been on the road and I have returned to old pastimes and duties that I have come to see things differently. Only recently have I come to understand that there was no nobility in her or her actions, only a selfish desire to pursue a vision of glory or something else she thought she wanted."  
He reached out and laid his hand upon his fathers fingers, gripping them with all his strength as if the force of his hold would prove the truth of his words.  
"But truly I did not believe at that time that she intended your death, no more do I believe it now. My view of that has not changed. But that is of no matter. Tell me with the truth you have promised did you then or now believe that I would have condoned her killing of you?"

Thranduil started into the blue eyes of his son and regretted his earlier words, cursed himself for letting his hurt get the better of his restraint. For Legolas was looking at him with something close to desperation and he knew that the future would turn upon this moment and what he replied. He looked deep into himself and knew which pain was the greater, the hurt of that moment in Dale or the pain that would come from Legolas's grief if he responded with the bald truth, and he knew which one was the more bearable.

He turned his hand and returned the pressure of the fingers upon his.  
"No, I did not think that, not then and not now. But I was shocked and horrified that you thought it necessary to make your defence of her in such a manner. I would never have harmed her, no more would I harm you. I hope that you now see that and I can only regret that you did not know it at the time."  
Legolas shook his head but his great relief was clear.  
"I had no reason to think it; indeed I do not see that I was thinking at all! All I saw was her pain and I did not stop to reflect upon its cause. Had I been faced with the choice you faced when in command then my decision would have been no different. To risk more lives in such a futile manner is not the action of a good commander, and as you have said to me before had she been so concerned for the safety of the dwarves she could have been half way to Ravenhill by the time she had sought you out. Only one is needed to deliver a warning after all."  
The king smiled.  
"True, but that point escaped Mithrandir too so I would not judge your error over harshly."  
Legolas shook his head.  
"Ah but strategy has never been a wizards strong point."  
"Certainly not that wizard." Thranduil replied dryly and with a dismissive wave of his free hand.

Legolas laughed but the humour was gone in an instant and he scanned his father face for a moment in silence.  
"It is the truth then, " he said eventually, "that you did not believe me willing to tolerate a threat to your life?"  
"It is as I have said, and, if knowing it gives you comfort, no more did any of those who also saw it. Angry though my guard were at your defence of her none thought you had colluded at the threat upon my life. Had they done so then you could never have been welcomed home. Why would I who have known you and loved you since your begetting think differently?"  
Legolas bowed his head.  
"But some will not forgive me for the grief I caused you and nor should they. I can see it, and something close to contempt, in Feren's eyes when he looks at me and Lady Ethryns too. Nor do I think that Galion has forgiven me, for he always seeks to place the choicest food and the best wines as far from my place as he can. But then you warned me it might be so and I will work to overcome it. The only thing I could not bear would be to think that I had let you to believe I would have let her kill you."  
"As I don't we need not speak more of it, and I do not doubt you will endure their distrust until such time as you prove yourself to them again. That process will begin tomorrow when we seek out the first of the final run of spider's nests and you will find yourself scouting beside them. These nests have been empty longer than any others but that does not make the survey any less dangerous for we still do not know where they have gone to. So I suggest we return to the camp and the fire and leave this cold behind us, unless there is more than you would ask me?"

"No," Legolas said softly. "I have revisited as many ghosts and hurts as either of us can stand on so wintry a night." He looked back to the snow laden trees, "at such a time it can hard to believe in spring and yet it is waiting and no deed of good or evil will halt it."  
Thranduil rose and pulled Legolas to his feet.  
"Spring will come and banish winter, as in its turn summer will banish spring. The life of the world will survive our grief and heartaches and if we let it be our teacher then so will we survive them. For the moment the forest recovers enjoy that and let the past and the future rest for a while. Bask in the light and let it strengthen you against the days when the darkness returns."  
He drew his son's arm though his own and began to lead the way to the campfire.  
"ButI advise you to be careful to check your horses girth tomorrow, Feren had not forgiven you it is true and he has a more impish streak than you might imagine."

XXX

The last run of spider nests stretched from the entrance to the forest road up to the western side of the forest river. It was into one of these nests that Thorin and his companions had fallen that autumn of seven years ago and they had been lucky to survive it for the adult spiders here had been many and they were always in search of prey.

This time the two parties shared the survey between them and, as his father had predicted, Legolas found himself entering the decaying nests beside elves that were less than wholeheartedly pleased at his return. Yet he didn't doubt that should danger rear its head they would guard his back as he would guard theirs, and not only because his father had clearly signalled his expectations by leading the party into the first nest with his son at his shoulder. Legolas had been glad of the gesture letting it sooth away the last vestiges of the fear that his father had not been quite honest about his feelings regarding his son's defence of Tauriel. He had both seen and felt his parents pain so deep and sharp had it been but as he strode beside his sire into the nest and later as they sat in quiet companionship beside the fire he persuaded himself that the darkness and his own guilt had misled him.

So the last days of the tour passed. The nests were as empty as those in the mountains, there were no tracks of Orc or Warg, no lairs of wild wolf and as he looked around him it seemed that the light within the trees was strengthening as the once twisted branches straightened. As they rode away from the last nest and took the road down towards the river he thought of the abandoned villages and houses they had passed, each checked as thoroughly as the nests and lairs, and smiled to himself for his father had agreed that this year the people might return to them if they wished. Come summer this part of the forest would echo with the wounds of elven life for the first time in centuries, families would return to homes long abandoned for the safety of the glades closer to his father halls. It might be just a temporary respite but for a while his people would be able to wander between their beloved trees and feast beneath the stars again. His father seemed certain the time would come when they would have need of the safety of stone again but for the moment the trees of the forest would be their shelter. While that could be it would be and during these days of light his father would strengthen his fortress against a future shadow so that when the time came none need be left unprotected.

As they drew closer to the bridge Legolas could hear the forest river rushing past the gates of home, the ice was thinning and melting allowing the sound of the torrent to mingle with the sounds of the wind and the rustling trees. The days were still cold and the nights bitter yet already the first signs of spring were emerging. He looked towards his father riding beside him, no doubt already planning his first glass of post inspection wine, for the supplies of that beverage had given out not long after the two parties joined, and plotting how to avoid council matters for at least another day. Tomorrow would be the new moon and the last feast of winter and by the next new moon spring would be taking command of the forest.

Spring! New life, new beginnings and the rebirth of all that had seemed dead throughout the winter. He caught his father's eye, and smiled. Behind the smile sadness surged for he could not entirely forget the look he caught upon his fathers face as they had sat and talked in the falling snow. Seeing him now, so relaxed and pleased at the prospect of home the fading imp of guilt summoned enough strength to shriek again that his father had lied to him to spare his guilt, he shook his head slightly and pushed it away, if his father wished to say otherwise then he would not compound his sins by doubting him or seeking more useless pain for them both. As the gates swing open he nodded to his father and said simply.  
"I had forgotten how long these trips can be and how wearying a saddle can become when all you do is ride and climb and sleep. It's good to be home."  
"Indeed it is." the king replied and urged his horse across the bridge.

Legolas followed still smiling. Whether it was the truth or not he would make his reparations as his father so clearly wished him to do, by living with joy.

End of winter – start of spring


	17. Chapter 17

**This is strictly speaking a new phase of the story but as the chapter list isnt long I've not seperated it out as a different publications.**

 **All the previous disclaimers continue to apply.**

 **To those who have taken time to comment and to whom I havent been able to respond by PM, thank you for your interest it means much. To all readers thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy thinking it through and writing it.I hope you continue to enjoy it.**

 **P**

 **Part 2 Spring**

 **New Year, old acquaintances**

Winter's iron grip had finally failed and spring was returning to the forest, and it promised to be the best spring for many a long year. Even beyond Thranduil's realm the trees were growing straighter, their leaves sprouting in greater numbers than had been seen since the shadow took hold. Within the lands held and protected by the Elvenking this verdant resurgence was yet more noticeable with blankets of flowers already carpeting the glades and curtains of catkins draping trees the elves of Mirkwood had once defended from spider's webs. The king would have no shortage of choice for his spring crown this year.

The wind blewaround the forest still, as was generally the case in a Mirkwood spring, but this year it was gentle, stirring the trees to fluttering dance not the head tossing displays often seen this early in the new season. More than that it was unusually warm for the wind was from the south, yet it was soft and untainted and the sun was bright in a blue sky, it's light shafting uninterrupted through the branches where the buds were just starting to breakand spreading out in a honeyed mist.

The two standing on the king's balcony felt a deep satisfaction and joy at the scene before them, though possibly not for the same reasons. The Elvenking was still dressed for winter in whites and blacks and browns and the crown upon his golden head was still decorated with ivy and other greenery, but tomorrow he would put winter aside and change his livery for green and gold and place upon his head the spring crown so loved by his people. It was ostensibly for this feast that the wizard, the shabby figure at his side, had arrived in the forest, though the king knew full well that was not the case. But they would not talk of that now, though the wizard had seemed willing to do so.

"Have you heard any news?" he had asked when he had tracked down his host to the library after a night of rest and a hearty, if lonely, breakfast.  
Thranduil's face had shown no sign that any thing of importance had been said but he had smiled a smile that did not reach his blue eyes and putting aside the book in his hand he had indicated that his visitor should preceed him from the room As he followed he had replied in a clear and dissassionate manner.  
"There is news enough but it depends upon which news is of interest."  
The guard at the door opened it for them and the visitor passed into into the passage beyond with a hint of confusion and impatience in his face  
"All news is of interest Thranduil but I would think that you know full well of what kind of news I speak." There was exasperation in his voice.  
The tall figure now at his side nodded.  
"Perhaps, but there is much that is called news by the uninformed that is only gossip and should not be given undue weight by those with sense.  
There was a bored note in the king's voice and yet there was something else too.

The wizard was about the protest at this self obvious truth when he noticed that the king had raised one of his hands slightly and was rubbing it as if the finger involved was painful, as if the ring upon that finger was too tight. The wizard's eyes narrowed as he watched Thranduil twist the seal ring of Mirkwood upon his right hand, the ring that was a symbol of… He drew a deep breath and nodded  
"You are correct as always my lord, and rebuke me well, the folk of Mirkwood are fortunate to have so wise a king. I ask that your excuse me for I have been alone upon the roads for many moons with silence as often as not my companion. But it is as you say such tittle tattle is for bored guards and gossiping cooks".  
Thranduil smiled  
"It is indeed, however there is some news that is worthy of being called such and I am more than willing to share it, if it has already come your way then tell me and I will not tire you with repetition I would however ask that you reply in kind for you may hear many things upon the road that has not yet reached me."

As they walked the pathway to the king's private quarters Thranduil had spoken of floods and more roads lost and the costs of maintaining the river banks, of new trade agreements with Dale and the men of the Lake, of the summer market planned to show off the works of the king under the mountain. He spoke also of the daughters of Bard the Bowman now Lord of Dale, of the new child born to the eldest, the proposed marriage of the youngest and all the celebration that entailed. The wizard smiled as he listened for he knew that Bard had despaired at times for his daughters who had both developed more than a little interest in the king of the wood as they grew to womanhood. Looking at the tall figure beside him, the lord and warrior written clear in his stance and build, at the air of majesty he managed so effortlessly to project and at the face that was fair even for an elf, he wondered if Thranduil had ever been aware of this.

He rather thought he might have been.

The new city was coning on apace,Thranduil continued, the walls were now whole again and new buildings were replacing the ruins of those destroyed by the dragon or the battle. The son of Bard was to come to the forest to finish his training as a warrior it seemed, as was the intended husband of the youngest daughter, for both wanted greater skill with the bow than could be found amongst the sons of men. There were several women coming to train as healers too, though the elves no longer found it necessary to provide other skills to their neighbours for the journey men had returned to both Lake and Dale.

By this time they had reached the king's quarters and with a nod to the guards they both passed through the gates and into the most secure part of the palace. Even so the wizard waited until they were in the king's private rooms before he asked what he had been impatient to ask since his arrival  
"There has been no news of…" he nodded towards the kings hand  
Thranduil shook his head but said nothing.  
"I saw a little of your works on my arrival my lord, they are extensive. You still fear the dark then though the shadow retreats?"

His host sighed.  
"Don't you Mithrandir? We both know that the fortress in the south will not be abandoned for long. I am sure both Elrond and Celeborn have said much the same to you.  
"I'll not deny they have, yet neither seems as cautious as you.  
"Neither has lived at such close quarters withits malign influence as I for so long." The Elvenking drawled  
The other sighed and smiled sadly.  
"That is also true.  
The king looked at him with blue steel in his eyes.  
"Do not doubt the danger Mithrandier. My spies tell me all is quiet at Dol Guldar as yet but while the fortress remains standing, and the old enchantments are in place, then it is but waiting and it will be called upon and brought back into service when it is needed,  
"Yes, that is my fear too." the wizards said quietly  
Then he frowned.  
"Spies? You have sent elves that far south?"  
"No I have not!" The king sounded annoyed. "I would not risk my people in such a manner. I know too much of the pits in that foul place to send any elf within striking distance, however quiet it might seem. I am no novice and I would not cause any to risk the torments enacted in that place for anything other than the most dire of needs."

He lowered his voice to close to a whisper  
"However there are those who can move unsuspected and who can flee quickly and unseen, those who would not be tormented even if caught for there would be no purpose. Many of these will act as spies for me for all wish to see the forest returned to the Greenwood that their ancestors knew. But do not ask me to name them for I will not, not even here or to you."  
The wizard smiled  
"A wise elf you are indeed Thranduil of Mirkwood, and I'd not ask that you acted differently." He spoke in the same low tone  
The king inclined his head slightly.  
The wizard frowned and continued in the same low tone.  
"Yet you fear spies here?"  
The kings robe shimmered as he shrugged as he replied looking towards a spider that was spinning a web in a corner high above them..  
"What I can do so can others. Certainty on that matter is still denied us."  
The old man's eyes narrowed for a momentas he followed the Elvenkings gaze, then he nodded  
"Very true  
The king inclined his head again  
"As for certain matters." Again his left hand strayed to the seal ring upon his finger, "No mention is the best course. Gossip and speculation is not news and I suspect we are in agreement on the reality of the situation."

With that he indicated that his visitor should precede him out onto the balcony. With a nod more graceful than his appearance would have suggested him capable of the wizard did was requested.

For a moment they stood in silence watching the bustling scene below, preparations for the feast that would begin when the day changed and spring began were well in hand. Amongst the throng were some that the wizard recognised and many he did not. A pang of sadness ran though him as he realised that many he had seen here before were no longer amongst them.

But one he had not seen here on his last visit was amongst those busy with the preparations and he smiled in joy.  
"He is home then.  
The visitor's quiet voice held both relief and satisfaction  
"As you see." His host replied with a hint of a smile  
"He has been welcomed?" There was a slight hesitation before the 'welcomed' but other than that the tone was bland  
"Why would he not have been?" There was a hint of warning and annoyance in the king's melodious voice  
The wizard shrugged his stooped shoulders  
"No reason that would have been justified to those who knew the circumstances of his departure, but I doubt that many did.  
The visitor turned to the tall and regal figure beside him and smiled again.  
"I think that you did all within your power to hide his distress from your people, and as their king your power is considerable. But his flight was very sudden and occurred at a strange time, and of course there is the fact that elves have a reputation for knowing things that others do not, so I doubt it went entirely unnoticed."

"No," there was sigh in the reply, "it did not. I will not deny there was some disappointment, even disapproval, at both his departure and his return, but few knew enough to feel more than that"  
The wizard smiled and looked up into the fair face beside him with slightly narrowed and considering eyes  
"Your guard are very loyal my lord, as are your people, but I must warn you that some others are aware of a version of events and you may yet hear of it from other sources.  
The king of Mirkwood looked down into the wizards face with tilted head and a slight frown as he replied  
"Why? The time involved is as a moment to an elf but for the sons of men it is a considerable period and only those who have some cause to will recall it. Why should it matter to them?  
He looked back towards the merry scene outside  
"The men of Dale and the Lake have no reason to wish me ill and every reason to wish my good opinion, why then should they spread tales of old hearsay?"

His guest frowned and shook his head  
"Men yes, but for the dwarves…." He sighed. "I heard Dain's taunts to you upon the mountain and thought them strange. For a lord of the iron hills to forget his dignity so completely, to stoop to such foolish childishness, suggests a deep and bitter grievance. Should he find out the full truth of the matters in Dale I have little doubts that he would make use of it at every opportunity.  
A slight smile passed across the king's face and his blue eyes took on a colder tinge  
"True his words were not worthy of his lordship, and the memory of it pains him I do not doubt, but the grievance is no mystery, you know the reason for it for you were there when it was made plain. Dain was in the grip of a madness contracted from Thorin, but that has passed as you also know.  
"Then all is well between your kingdoms?  
Thranduil gave a small laugh.  
"I would not say that, it's true that some difficulties remain between us, in the circumstances it could not be otherwise.  
"The circumstances my Lord?" Concern vibrated in the words  
The Elvenking smiled again.  
"Dain is as unreasonable as any dwarf and like the rest of his kin his memory is as long as his sense of importance is great. His difficulty now is that he knows his earlier error for what it was and so finds himself at some disadvantage when he must face me; therefore he avoids doing so as far as he can manage it. I allow that and do not remind him of his ….misapprehension… on those occasions when we must meet; in fact I behave as if the words were never said." His smile widened but now there was some humour in it, "which we both know increases his discomfort but is for the best for all. In return he ignores certain…arrangements that I have agreed with Bard. Those are to my advantage, which he also knows, and so provides him with some sop to his guilt and pride. Should he discover more of the matter of Legolas he might see his tolerance of that accommodation as a greater boon to me and so the knowledge would further ease his difficulties, but it would be of no more value than that."

The wizard frowned  
"Are you sure of that? For though I know him to be unreasonable I did not expect to see him behave in such a manner as he did before the mountain, and as you say discovering the truth has put him in your debt, a most uncomfortable place for a dwarf!  
The king's smile remained but it took on a chill and sharp edge and he turned to stare at the old man beside him with narrowed eyes  
"Do not be afraid that we could not bear to be allies should we need to be Mithrandir, should you plan any more unexpected battles we will not turn upon each other.  
"Thranduil," the wizard sighed. "I have admitted that the matter of Erebor was not my finest hour. To set in train such events when I knew vast companies of Orcs were being readied for war, and whilst I did not know where they were, was a mistake and I own it. That is cost your people and those of Dain and Bard much I also own, and I grieve for them deeply and regret their fate, whatever you might believe in your heart. But it was not with any intent of such an outcome that I gave Thorin the map and set him upon his quest and I hold to the fact that Smaug needed to be removed and a more reliable authority placed in control of the mountain.  
The king looked down into the crumpled face below him in silence for a moment and then he inclined his head and placed a beringed hand upon the shabby shoulder  
"I believe that to be the case but you cannot blame me for resenting the outcome." He said softly. "It cost me much Mithrandir and for a while I feared that it had cost me that I hold most dear."  
The old man nodded  
"I know that you did, believe me I would have done everything within my power to repair such a rent."  
The look in the blue eyesabove him seemed pained and distant for a moment then the king inclined his head in acceptance of the words.

'Ah my friend' the wizard thought as he noted the pained look, 'you will not mention the other grief but I know it and wish I could ease it. You grieve still for every elf lost that day and will do so for centuries. Strange it is that the elves, who have the certain knowledge of the love of Eru, should feel the loss of their kin so heavily. I wonder if you will ever sail west and seek the solace of the Valar. Not yet I hope for I fear the world will need your strength again before the darkness is chased away.'

He turned away looking down to where a tall golden haired elf was directing the movement of wine barrels across the bridge. Sunrise would see the dawn of the elvish New Year and Thranduil's son was occupied in being useful to a group of young elves charged with mustering the refreshments for the evening feast. He looked cheerful enough but like his father he had long been trained to shield his sorrows and to one who had known him all the centuries of his life there was something about him that spoke of lingering sadness even as he laughed and joked with the other elves.

The wizard spoke softly  
"As it is some matters have resolved themselves, at least in that he has returned home." He nodded in the prince's direction. "But what of Legolas himself? You feared for him I know and when I met him upon the road it was clear that things were far from well with him. The cloud of grief that hung around him then seems dispelled, though he is not yet quite himself, or so it seems to me. As his father you may know better."  
There was a moment of silence before the quiet response was offered  
"No, he is not yet truly himself, though he tries to be for my sake. However, his mood has improved much since he returned home, and he seems to have found a little of his previous peace and joy since the tour of inspection. Being amongst old friends and about familiar tasks has helped, but he cannot miss the fact that there are faces that he knew that are no longer here and no doubt he wonders if his presence in Dale might have saved any of them. No, not all is recovered and there is still much guilt within him. On some matters I think he begins to forgive himself but on others I fear he still has some way yet to travel, and there are hurdles that remain to be over come."

Catching the hint of some hesitation in the king's voice the wizard looked up into the face above him with a frown  
"He does not know the sum of it as yet then?"  
"The sum?" the king's voice was chilly.  
He smiled watching the elf beside him draw the mantle of dignity and grandeur around him, something Thranduil was well equipped to do. It was a weapon the Elvenking wielded very effectively he had to admit but he was not to be impressed into silence, at least not on this occasion. He shook his head  
"Thranduil my friend, I have no doubt that you have tried to shield him from of the details behind his folly, and that you continue to do so, and if I were in your shoes I would have done, and do, the same. But we both know that such things will out in the end. "

He paused for a moment waiting for the king to speak only continuing when it was clear that no response was coming  
"The arrangements you speak of, I assume they those you have made for the elf that arrived with your son from Gundebad? I saw her in Dale at the time of the funeral of Thorin and his kin. I had learned of her actions by then, for there was much talk of it amongst your guard I admit to overhearing, and it was not hard to guess the link between those actions and Legolas's departure. But I confess that at that time I did not recognise her for who she was. I saw her again close to your camp the night before we left Dale and it was seeing her by the light of the fires that I knew her."  
He looked away towards the trees  
"She was not part of the elven host that we rode to Mirkwood with, and so I assumed then that you had left her under the protection of Bard. I can see that such an arrangement is to your advantage, for there would be nowhere else that she could go, and for all her perfidity I do not think you would abandon her to the consequences of her actions."

Thranduil was silent, his eyes still locked on the scene below them and the visitor let that silence hang for a moment. When he spoke again his voice drained of expression  
"I was much distracted when Legolas and I met in Dale, his news of the coming horde drove all things but the consequences of it from my mind and so I paid little attention to his companion. Only afterwards did I reflect upon it, I do not recall her showing much concern for the dwarves, though from what followed after that seems strange, certainly she seemed less concerned by the situation than Bilbo Baggins. I saw simply an elf in Mirkwood garb riding behind your son and paid her no more attention. But even had I done so at that moment it would have been of no importance."  
"You think it of importance now?  
The Elvenking remained turned away. Yet even so, and though he was at his most distant and kingly, something in the stiffness of his stance told his companion that he knew full well the importance of the remark  
"Yes, both then and now. The past is done with yet her continued presence in Dale may affect Legolas and his future within your realm; I would not see him quit his home again and yet were he to come to a full understanding of the truth ….." He let the words tail away but when the king still did not speak he sighed and continued  
"Such a discovery, if made in the wrong manner, might well send him fleeing again if his spirit has not yet found its balance."

Still the figure beside him remained silent and he sighed again, there could be no doubt that Thranduil must find it difficult, how many bitter memories it must stir, for the king would know well the doom that could be brought about when elvish affections went astray.

"She was the watcher in the shadows that I saw was she not?" he said softly.  
"The watcher?" Thranduil's voice was expressionless and his gaze still did not move from the scene below them  
"Yes. Or so I thought of her. On my last visit to Mirkwood before I set off to find Thorin there were several occasions when I came across her where I did not expect to. I confess the first times it troubled me greatly for I wondered if you feared for your life in some way that caused you to set a hidden guard to watch over you. To do so within your own palace suggested a threat of considerable proportion and had I not been preoccupied with other things I would have questioned you more closely on it.  
He looked sideways at the king and his eyes narrowed at the bitter set to his companion's mouth  
"You did know of this?" he said softly.

The king turned then and met his questioning look with a gaze as distant and expressionless as a summer sky  
"I knew, but I had set no hidden guard nor in any other ways instructed her to watch over me. She was a captain in the guard and her duty was to protect my people, should I have needed extra protection at any time for or any reason it would never have been to her I would have turned.  
There was weariness in his tone, something that spoke of a road often travelled in private.

The wizard smiled slightly and turned to watch the labouring prince laughing with a group of elflings as they struggled with a small barrel  
"No. You would not." He said softly  
There was silence between them for a moment before the wizard continued  
"How long had you known of her habit? For by the number of occasions I observerved it in a single visit it was a habit."  
For a moment it seemed that he would get no answer but finally, and a little to his surprise, the woodland king replied  
"There were more than ten turns of the seasons between the point at which I was first sure of it and the time of her leaving to follow the dwarves.  
"Did you never ask her why?"  
"Yes, though I confess not as soon as I perhaps should have done. It seemed such an unlikely thing and I found it hard to ask her. Yet when I did ask she always had a reason that might have explained it and there was nothing that I could challenge her on. It made me uneasy but no more than that, she was a loyal captain of the guard, raised within in my own house, if she found it hard to approach me as she usually claimed when found out, then some of the fault was mine."

"And Legolas does not know of this?"  
"No! Nor would I have him know, for what purpose would it serve? It is enough that he has lost something that he thought he held dear, harder still that he feels unwise for his errors in judging her conduct as he knows it, I would not see that grow to something that will bring yet more disillusion."  
Thranduil sighed  
"I do not absolve myself from all culpability in that matter and I would not have my son pay for my unwillingness to see the flaws in her as quickly as I might have done. I should have acted to curb her ambitions before I did and I was too slow to understand the destructive nature of her relationship with Legolas. By the time the dwarves escaped I was seeing the matter in a harsher light. Her desertion I did not expect; and I admit that had she returned with Legolas when I asked I would have set the matter aside and taken her back into her former role. But I still misjudged the degree of his blindness where she was concerned." He shook his head, "I had not expected that he allow her desertion to continue and certainly not that he would follow her in that desertion."

"Yet you have forgiven him.  
"Yes, that is of no matter. I understand how she played upon his regard for her and his natural desire to know more of the matter of the Orcs and see no reason to castigate him for his actions."  
The wizard shot him a sharp look and his voice took on a harsher edge  
"But what of her? There is more that you fear Elvenking where she is concerned than you have yet revealed, I hear it in your voice. I know you to be protective of your kin but if you have doubts or fears that touch upon wider matters you must speak of them. We neither of us believe the darkness gone far and if there are deeds or ambitions that might need to be accounted for in future plans then they must be known to those who must do the accounting."

The elf beside him was silent for a while, his eyes following the path of his son through the growing throng below and his mouth set in a line as if he had swallowed something displeasing to him. Finally he drew a deep breath and nodded just once.

"Very well, but to you alone, at least unless matters prove to be more serious than I hope is the case." He was speaking slowly and with great care in his choosing of words. "For I believe I have acted to contain such danger as might or might not have been present and I would not have Legolas learn of my concerns unless it cannot be avoided. I will speak of what I feared at that time but you must swear that it will go to no other, not even to Elrond, unless there is no choice but to disclose it."  
The wizards sharp look had become a frown as the king had spoken but he nodded in response  
"I agree as long as you allow me to determine the point at which it must be disclosed. You know I am not of a gossiping nature and I hope will trust me with that."  
It was clear that the king was not pleased with the situation but after a moment he dipped his head  
"So be it, I will trust to your care and wisdom Mithrandir, and to your fondness for my son."  
"Then tell me of your worry."

Thranduil was silent for a moment longer, apparently collecting his thoughts, before he drew a deep breath and spoke softly  
"I had seen some change in her in the time before the coming of the Thorin. She had become impulsive and careless and bold, even disrespectful, in her manner to others. It annoyed me for I thought I had taught her better and wondered if perhaps I had not given her preferment too soon, yet it was no more than that. Until the day Thorin was taken." The king's brow creased in a frown and his eyes took on a look as if he was back in the encounter and away from the present  
"She told me that the spiders were spawning at Dol Gulder, something that I knew to be untrue, and the thought sprang into my mind, 'Why do you think that?' She could not have drawn the belief from any misunderstanding of things she learned within my halls for I have not sent spies close to that evil place since we withdrew north of the mountains, for, as I have told you, nothing would I risk there."  
"Might she have seen something in your correspondence that gave her such a belief?" the wizards asked  
The king shook his head his mind still in the vision of the past  
"No. for whilst I no longer have any difficulty in believing that she would spy upon my correspondence if the opportunity presented itself the codes used between us are not something she could discern."  
"Might Legolas have told them to her?"  
"Not even Legolas knows them. It has always been thought safer that way."  
"Then your thought was a fair one, how did she know, or rather why did she think that she knew? But continue my lord for I sense from your reluctance that there was more to it."

The king nodded silently  
"She continued, demanding that I sent a force out to the fortress to as, she put it, 'destroy them at their source". At that I became more angry not only that she sought to reach so far above her competence as to instruct me in my duty but also because I judged her request, and indeed her previous statement, to be a vessel for her own further preferment. I thought that she sought a dangerous and fruitless campaign for her own glory and advancement with no thought for the blood of her comrades she might spill in its pursuit."  
"Did you not challenge her on this?"  
"I did, in as measured a manner as I could for I confess I felt some anger at this point. As it was I reminded her of her duty and that the fortress she casually spoke of was not within our borders. It should have been enough and yet it was not."  
The wizard watched the Elvenking closely knowing they were near to the nub of the matter, though his expression was distant it was clear some fear had come upon him at the time he spoke of.  
"How then did she respond?" he asked softly  
"With some vague claim of the common good, some rant that the spiders might spread to other lands, though they have not done so in more than millennia and there had been no reason to consider that they might change their ways."  
"Is it not something a child knowing little but with a generous and innocent heart might ask?"  
"Indeed it is but she was no child Mithrandir but a captain in the guard who knew well the war we wage."  
His voice dropped further, the words coming even more slowly than before  
"It was then that I began to fear that something darker might be in hand. For what was it that she asked of me when it came to it? That I divide my forces, leave some of my people and lands unprotected, and send elves into the sphere of a place of dark magic and evil. She demanded this, she who was a captain in the guard and knew of our daily war against the dark and how much we had already lost to the shadow. She who knew how hard was the fight to hold our lands."

The wizard fowned.  
"True I was forgetting that point and considering that it was indeed a most singular request. But was it your only cause for concern for even so there could be other reasons than the influence of the shadow, which I assume it what you feared. Perhaps it was as you said a vainglorious desire to prove her valour."  
"That was what I hoped for all our sakes. But I have stood before the gates of Morder Mithrandir and fought those servants of the dark who started on the path into shadow in much a similar manner. We both know how Morgoth deceived the Noldor and the black deeds that followed on from that deception, we both know that evil can be painted in the colours of honour and kindliness to trap the unwary."  
The old man sighed and shrugged sadly  
"That we do, and that was what you feared?"  
"Yes and yet no, at that point the fear was not worthy of the name, just a feeling that somehow she had become, blurred, in some way that I could not describe. I sought to turn her thoughts then, to pull her back to the reality of the day and the truth of her kin. But in that too I was disappointed and the sense of something wrong continued, and in the following days it grew. For whether it was her infatuation with the dwarf, itself something I viewed with deep foreboding, or some other cause, she changed such that she no longer seemed to behave as an elf and her words and deeds took on more the form of those seduced by the darkness."

He paused for a moment bringing his eyes back from the past to look into the wizard's eyes  
"Mithrandir we have spoken of this before and I would not chose to visit that event again if I could avoid it, but when I looked into her face as I sent her away after she tried to kill the Orc I swear that for a moment I saw an old evil there; a bloodlust that had been denied and something more; a deep and bitter anger that another purpose had been frustrated."  
The wizard felt a surge of shock for he knew how much Thranduil regretted the manner in which his memories had overtaken him that day and it said much of his concern that he would speak of it again. Yet elves always lived at odds with time and there was need to dwell upon it and so he shrugged  
"The dwarf perhaps?"  
"Perhaps, but she had no reason to believe that he was still living or that he could be saved given the Orcs report and yet it was not grief I saw my friend but fury that I was sending her away."  
The wizard thought about that for a moment  
"Where she could not hear what the orc would disclose you think?" He said eventually  
"It has crossed my mind many times that events would fit such a reading."

"Yet from what you said at our last meeting you would have taken her back. Why was that?"  
"Because I have known her all her life and I could not be sure. Nor could I see how the darkness might have reached out to her. And I could have kept a watch upon her."  
"Yet now she is unwatched. Do you feel the danger passed?"  
"No, but she is not unwatched. The commanders of my forces in Dale are drawn from elves of the first age and who travelled with my father across the mountains from the west. Her companions amongst the garrison are all elves of the second age, those who stood with me at Mordor and know the wiles of the evil very well. If the shadow comes to her it will no doubt come in the shape of good but they will not be confused by it as she might be. Bard too has been put upon his guard and in a town of men she is unlikely to find support should she seek it. No it is safest for all that she remains where she is."  
"I would agree, provided you are sure she had no following here that might influence matters.  
"On matters that affect my people I am not afraid to face unpleasant tasks Mithrandir. I have been most careful to discover if that was the case and I can find no suggestion that it is. Certainly none seemed unduly distressed by the loss of her or in any other way affected."  
"Except Legolas."

The king drew a deep breath and met his companion's eyes without flinching  
"Yes, except for Legolas. But I truly believe the matter there is as it seems and that his support and protection of her had a less portentous cause than seduction by evil. Only time will tell, and I accept that, but so far all the signs are that he is untouched by the shadow, though in his desire to please her he may have been drawn into ways and errors that mimic it. These he now sees and I believe he is honest in his regret of them. It is my sorrow that I did not, or would not, see the changes and press him on them before. Perhaps I was too willing to explain them away as unhappiness."  
He turned away again and looked down once more upon the scene below  
"As for her, well there too I may be mistaken for there are things other than the dark lord that can draw us into delusions and petty spite, and there are things….. Well let that rest for the moment and I'll say no more than I hope that proves to be case. But even if it is not and she was touched by shadow for a time, it may now have departed since she no longer offers it any profit. If so we must do what we can to succour her and ensure it does not return."  
He shook his head sadly  
"For she has paid a high price for her weakness already, whatever it's' cause.  
"Indeed she has and I hope that you prove right in your hopes for all our sakes my friend."

A peal of laughter wafted up from beneath them followed quickly by a snatch of song in which Legolas's voice could be heard amongst others. Thranduil smiled at the sound, in a flash more elf than king. The cloak of power and authority seemed in an instant to drop from him, the crown fading, and for a moment he was a Sylvan not a Sindar Lord. The fey air that was never far away even from a king of elves strengthened, the light of him glowed brighter and his connection to his land seemed to vibrate in the air. The wizard beside him marvelled as he always did when one of the Elf lords underwent such a transformation, for he had seen even Elrond react in such a manner on occasions when the world was bright.

"It will be a good spring Mithrandir, a soft and gentle spring." The Elvenking said quietly. "A truly green and silver spring such as was often seen when the world was younger. The new life coming will be strong and clean, straight and fair and it will have time to flourish before cold winds return. For a season or so my people may make merry beneath the trees and stars as they should and they will not need Halls of stone for their safety. I know it to be just a respite and I will ensure that the halls of stone will be ready when they need them. But that is not now my friend let us drink from the joy of this shining spring as fully as we may."

Below them a group of young elves due to reach their majority in the coming season crossed the bridge hurrying to claim their place at a nearer table before donning their finery for the feast were waylaid by the king's son. Thranduil's smile widened at their protests as Legolas directed them towards the fire builders, but they met with scant sympathy from their prince and turned dragging steps towards the duties set. As if suddenly aware of his father's presence Legolas looked up and flipped a hand in salute before striding away to some other errand.

His father laughed, and the sound of the river and the rustle of spring trees seemed to echo through the sound  
Then the elf faded into the king again and the wizard felt a strong hand upon his arm drawing him back into the room  
"Mithrandir I wish you great joy of my halls this night and for all the feast time. Until it begins let us find somewhere secluded lest my energetic son finds something for us to do too."


	18. Chapter 18 Reflections of a Wizard and a

**Reflections of a Wizard and an Elf**

Night had fallen and, like the day, it was unusually warm for so early in spring and so the wizard felt no need to stay close to the fires; instead he took his pipe and wandered amongst the glades of towering beech that ringed Thranduil's Halls and mingled with the feasting elves of the Woodland Realm.

It had been a good day, a day of light and love, of families and friends, of delicious food and good wine, of laughter and music and dance. He smiled to himself as a young elf scampered past him to join a group of friends in the dance, there would be memories gathered today that he would store up against the time when the dark returned and despair might seek to defeat them. His smile grew as he thought back across the day, images of Thranduil greeting the sun and his people in his green and gold spring robes, the chosen representative of all the tribes of the sylvan elves, solemn and nervous, placing the new season crown upon his king's head and of that regal king throwing off his cloak of dignity to laugh and dance an ancient reel with the children as the sun rose above the tree tops. The wizard leant against a tree and watched the smoke from his pipe rise in the evening air as more memories flooded in, of Legolas leading the traditional hunt for the first whitebells, only one of which might be picked to set upon the king's table for the evening feast, a dozen more couples coming to the kissing bough and Legolas again, the first babe of the spring in his arms laughing with the child's parents. There had been a hint of sadness in his eyes as he had handed the child to its mother and turned away and the wizard had grieved for him for he was clearly still regretting his mistaken affection.

The sight of it had turned the wizard's thoughts towards Dale and the elf who could not return home and he had wondered if more grief and trouble lay in wait for them there. But he had pushed his doubts away for there was nothing he could do about them for the moment.

Now as the stars appeared above him and the music drifted around the trees and the song followed not far behind it, he allowed himself to bask in the peace. Yes these were memories to treasure, bread for the soul to keep him walking the true path in the sadness ahead, and like his host he did not doubt that sadness was closer than any would wish. Already there were rumours of happenings in Mordor, stories of a new presence at the black tower though no indication as yet that they were anything more than rumours, no reason to think it anything other than the shadows of an old fear never truly lost. Yet he did not believe that, and in time he was sure the reality of the shadow returned would be made clear to them. There was news too of more disturbances amongst the people of the further east, stories borne out by Thranduil's report of fleeing easterlings crossing the withered heath. That had troubled him more than he cared to say for this was the first report he had heard of those so far north being disturbed. In Rivendell and Lorien it was easier to forget, those realms protected by the elven rings seemed unaffected by the shadow and could too easily seduce their occupants into believing that all was well, or that there was time if it was not. There the world might seem untouched but here, even whilst the forest was whole and free, the danger seemed always to be waiting,

Thranduil was a true king who always kept the longer game in his mind and he had fought a long and bitter fight over many centuries to keep his land and his people from being overrun by the darkness, it was to his credit that he had managed so much given the circumstances. The wizard could only hope that he would continue in that success. As for how the Elvenking had done it, he smiled to himself, that king was rather unwilling to discuss such matters. That he had done so with some form of magic or enchantment the wizard had never doubted, and the dwarves of Thorin's company had been loud in their protests of it. Yet it was something different from the power of the rings, something more benevolent perhaps for he had yet to hear of any dying from it. When the coming war was over he was determined that he would know more of it, reluctant though the Elvenking might be.

Yet that too was for the future and for the moment he was happy to revel in the joy of the elves, for the forest realm of Thranduil was a happier place than when he had last been here. Then he had been on his way back towards Erebor having returned Bilbo to the Shire, his intention had been to visit Dain but the journey was a long one and he had remembered Thranduil's invitation to his Halls and taken him at his word. He had not expected to find what he did however, even though he knew that many had died before the mountain. At that time, barely two years after the battle, the forest had seemed lost and desolate, and the grief had hung heavy in the air even though the shadow has started to retreat.

He frowned as the smoke from his pipe blurred his vision of the present joy, he would not forget that visit easily for his own regret had come close to overwhelming him and he had been as near as he ever had been to wishing to lay down his burden. There had been fear too, the worry that something had injured this beleaguered Realm as a result of his own plans, actions unforeseen and unplanned that had struck a deep and lasting wound in the King and the Realm, one that he could only hope did not prove fatal. For it had occurred to him then that if Thranduil decided to withdraw from the world, to sail, then an important bewails in the wall against the shadow might well crumble.

That such a thing should follow from the childish silliness of just one was an irony too bitter to be contemplated.

He puffed harder upon his pipe as he recalled his own fears and doubts and how they had been stirred by that last visit Had he known of Thorin's madness he might not have left the dwarves to travel the forest alone, or he might have risked sending them by a different route, or remained with them, but in the end what difference would it have made to the outcome? None that he could be sure of, and Galadrial might not have been able to overcome Sauron alone. Though it had occurred to him lately that Sauron might have been playing with them in that matter, and that he might have intended to leave Dol Guldur without their intervention; perhaps just a little later. But that too was of no real import, for the moment Sauron was gone and was silent and they could all take time to draw a little breath.

The wizard smiled to himself as he heard the sound of the harp and lyre drift across the evening air, the Woodland Realm was taking some rest, even its king in an easier frame of mind than at their last meeting. Legolas however seemed to be avoiding him, always about some business when ever the chance for them to converse arouse. But he was home and his father's worst fears had apparently come to naught, though there was a time, at his last visit, when those fears had been great, and for all his soothing words he too had feared the worst,

His mind drifted like the smoke settling back in the past

"What is it that you fear my lord," he had asked the Elvenking. "Your son is indeed your son and is a fighter, no weakling he. It is true from what I have heard that he was foolish and erred grievously, but I do not think his heart is touched by darkness, nor do I believe that he sought your death."  
Thranduil had turned in a swirl of silken robes and denial  
"No! Legolas is honourable and a staunch enemy of the shadow, there is no darkness in him!"  
He shook his head.  
"Her….. of her I cannot be so sure."  
The king drew a deep breath his mind returning swiftly to his absent son  
"He was mistaken, foolish if you will, seduced by empty but high sounding words from one whose good opinion he wished, nothing more than that. He did not stop to reflect, merely acted on what his heart told his eyes to see and fear; that was his only crime."

By this time the wizard had known much more of the matter than he had in Dale and did not need any further explanation so he had simply nodded  
"Yet it must be of concern to you that he was so easily beguiled by one who deserted her people and all she was sworn to protect to follow a dwarf she barely knew. One who was willing to kill her protector and her king on so little provocation?" He had replied mildly  
Thranduil had stared at him in silence for a moment then drew a deep breath and bowed his head  
"Yes, I will not lie to you Mithrandir. After the matter with the orc I had thought he might consider a little. I allowed him to follow her, to bring her back, to give him the opportunity to do so. I thought that if she returned there would be the opportunity for his yearning to die a natural death.  
"Instead she incited him to follow her.  
The king shook his head  
"I do not know for I was not party to what happened when they met, or to any of their discourse afterwards. That he followed the orc to Laketown I know, that the dwarf she desired to protect was there I also know. That she went with Legolas into the town now seems clear but more than that can only be speculation."

The wizard recalled his own doubts at that point and how he had sighed with some weariness for there could be no escaping the reality of the matter however much the father might wish there to be  
"But you know that he refused to return when he learned that you had banished her.  
The king echoed his sigh.  
"Yes that do know, and from his words to my messenger at that time I can deduce other things. But what was in his heart then or when we met in the street in Dale that I do not know.

Thranduil had turned away then, sinking down into his chair and picking up his glass to stare into the deep red of the wine, speaking slowly as he turned the glass restlessly  
"You may say that I seek too many excuses for him given his actions, but he is my son Mithrandir and besides I do not absolve myself from all culpability in this matter, for I saw how things were between them and did not act when I should have done. I was too slow to understand the destructive nature of his feelings and of her nature and her actions, though on looking back the evidence was perhaps there. I thought her better than that, wiser and more considered; my fault was that I did not appreciate the childish nature of her. Perhaps I did not wish to for she was raised within my house.  
He turned his eyes towards the fire  
"Each time I allow myself to remember I wonder how I failed her, what I should have done that I did not do. I will not pretend that I tried to replace her father; I remembered only too well the grief when mine fell and knew that I could never do so, but that aside I was not aware that I had deprived her of anything she needed or asked for. How then did she do what she did?"

The wizard easily recalled his own sense of despair at that point, for how could he provide any comfort against the stark brutality of her betrayal  
"My Lord I cannot say; had she been a daughter of men I would have said she was besotted to the point of madness, enamoured of some romantic vision of herself, but that is not the way of elves.  
He could do no better than that and its only effect was cause the Elvenking to smile a bitter smile  
"No it is not; perhaps that is why I was so blind. For blind I was, why I not see before the dwarves came that something had gone so awry with her? For it is now clear that it had. If I had seen before I would never have given her preferment in the manner that I did, for now I know the extent of the treachery of which she was capable I do not wish to think of the damage she might have done to our realm in other circumstances.  
"But you did act my Lord.  
"Yes in the end. Once I did understand … it was the fear of where her actions might lead that persuaded me to act so swiftly upon her continued desertion. But it seems that I had misjudged that too for while I had been prepared for Legolas to bring her back regardless of her banishing and to plead for forgiveness for her but I confess that I had not expected that he would follow her in that desertion. If that is what he did.  
He recalled that he had nodded in some sympathy for his desire to ease the kings hurt had been aside from his own regrets  
"I do not consider he would have intended any ill outcome against you nor anything that might have increased your losses in battle.  
Then, seeing the sorrow in the king's face, his own irritation overcame his measured calm. "I do not doubt that Legolas did what he saw as the best until that cursed confrontation. What was in his mind then is beyond my comprehension; for I would never have taken him for a fool, certainly not a lovesick one!

The king sighed wearily  
"You know much of the history of my race Mithrandir and I do not doubt that you understand my worries on that score. Such errant affection, rare as it is, has spilled much elvish blood in the past. I would not see my Realm so blighted." He smiled faintly. "Yet the manner of our parting gives me hope, for his regret was clear and I so not think it all for his loss of her.  
"Let us hope not, for his future will be grim indeed if he does not come to his right mind where other things are concerned. But I do not doubt that he will do so, all he needs is time and some space from the disappointments he must know that he has caused.  
He had spoken softly, he recalled, in deference to the king who was also a father for his mood had not been soft and had Legolas appeared before him then the errant elf would have felt the full force of a wizard's anger. That anger had burned within him until the day he met the prince upon the road and saw his misery, only then had forgiven.

"And what of her my lord, what will you do with her? It is true that she has not behaved as one would expect a captain of your guard to behave. Nor even with the skill you might have expected of her. As you say she was raised within your house, yet she would have killed you, what then can you do with her?  
Thranduil had raised sombre eyes and met his look without flinching  
"No, that is true. Do not think this matter does not grieve me nor believe that there is not a hurt that runs deep within me. For as you say she would have killed me, if only in that moment, and made it clear she considers me of little worth. Though I might wish to believe that it was a childish tantrum produced by her thwarted will I cannot be sure of that, for she will never tell me the truth of it, if indeed she knows it. But even if that were the case her judgement must forever be suspect and her loyalty in question, and though her grief at the dwarf's death was real enough at the time in the balance of things it cannot outweigh the rest.  
He sighed, his eyes going back to the contents of his glass  
"I am the king Mithrandir and I must abide by the laws as I swore to do at my crowning and the law is clear, she must be banished for life. Only in the most exceptional of circumstances might this sentence be set aside or in any way mitigated.  
He raised his eyes to meet the wizard's compassionate look  
"But I have thought long on this and have persuaded the council that the circumstances are exceptional, for we have lost many skilled in arms in the battle and to lose even one more is undesirable if another way can be found within the law and in a way the people feel that justice has been done."

The wizard recalled his surprise, for there were few who would have forgiven sufficiently to even try and find an alternative way. But then the Elvenking had always been capable of giving surprise when matters called for i  
"Have you found such a way?" he asked curiously  
"I believe so. The council have accepted that Dale may be deemed far enough from our Realm to be considered as banished provided the elf in question continues to serve the Realm without danger to it or others, and this only in light of our losses at the Lonely Mountain. I have stripped her of her rank, for it clear she does not deserve it, and placed her under the command of those I trust and she is never outside of their oversight. Placing her in the City garrison, which must be serviced, allows another elf, one trusted and untainted, to remain within the forest to defend it."

The wizard smiled at the recollection, had he ever doubted Thranduil's wisdom, or the kindliness of his people, then those doubts were lost in that moment. She was fortunate she was an elf, and one of his people, in the lands of men her crimes would have brought her only the noose, or, had her king been hurt in so personal a manner, an even more unpleasant death.

Yet despite the kindliness and sense of her disposal there remained concern about the matter in his mind. Elves were generally continent and stalwart, not given to light affections to foolish bravado or empty gestures, and yet she had threatened murder of her king and protector and in the middle of a battle, she who was supposed to be a warrior trained. It might yet prove to be a faulty gentleness should the darkness return. He wished he had paid her more attention when there had been the opportunity as it was he could recall little of her during the battle and his only real memory of her was as a waiting presence at the gate as they buried Thorin.

For there was much in Thranduil's fears, what did lie at the bottom of such strange behaviour from an elf? Care for the dwarfdom and world? It seemed unlikely somehow, for she was a guard and must have seen the threats they faced daily. She must have been aware that it was her own people who were fighting to defend their home and loved ones with little help. Love, as it seemed she would have it? Unlikely as an answer to any one other than a child and he was not a child. From Thranduil's report it seemed that she could have had no more than a conversation or two with the dwarf, and that through a door with the possibility of the holder of the keys coming upon them at any moment, and with his fellow dwarves close by too. What, then, could they have shared of any importance? What could have been exchanged between them to produce so deep a feeling as to explain her conduct? No, there could have been no real feeling between the two of them at that time, even if they had not been elf and dwarf.

Which meant there must be a reason yet to be discovered; one that even she might not be fully aware. That had caused the wizard some concern, and indeed still did.

The matter of her claiming to know where the spiders spawned also caused him great unease, for though she was wrong in her belief someone must have told her it was so for she could never have seen the fortress for herself. Dol Guldor was beyond Thranduil's border, and by some margin, and he never sent his people there knowing the risk to be too great. But who might have told her and for what purpose? It could only be someone who she had reason to think might know; someone she would believe had been there. The question then must be why would she be in company with such a person? She was a Captain in the Guard and so her duties would have been in the forest, she was not of the king's guard and so unlikely to travel with him to places where she might come across others. So it must have been an elf who told her. It was not unknown for elves to become corrupted, to turn to evil even, though it was rare; but for one to serve the dark one, that would be a new and worrying development.

Yet Thranduil had spoken of other possible causes for her strange actions, though he had refused to say more on the matte. He must hope that the king was right and that there was some other answer. The wizard frowned into his beard and chewed upon the stem of his pipe, his mind returning to the present. It seemed unlikely that he would get the king of the wood to share more of his thoughts now that Legolas was home and his mind was at greater ease, and yet there was more to be known of that he was sure.

Then there was the matter of Dain. Thranduil was right that Dain felt in some debt to the Elvenking for his slanders for the dwarf king was honourable and fair enough in his dealings with others; but to be under a debt of this nature, one that touched upon the honour of the House of Durin would be irksome to him. The crown he now wore would temper his words and his actions but any lingering tensions between the two realms were best dispelled before war returned.

He looked around him, the night had deepened and the glow from the fires was brighter. The song could be heard above a rising wind and the wizard realised that the night had developed a chilly edge the stars seeming colder than they had done when first they appeared. How quickly things could change and it was best to be prepared even when the day seemed warm and bright. He pulled his cloak more closely around his shoulders and turned back towards the Elven kings halls and the bright warmth of the fires. As he walked through the now dark and restless forest he decided that he would visit Dale on his way to Erabor and pay a call upon Bard, there might be much to be learned from the Lord of Dale if the questions were framed in the right way.

"Mithrandir."

The voice came from behind him, the tone a question and an entreaty at the same time. He turned and met an anxious look from Legolas who stood on the edge of the clearing as if uncertain of the permission to come closer, unsure of his welcome.

The wizard smiled broadly, it seemed that they would get their discussion after all  
"Legolas Greenleaf, I was wondering if we would get chance to speak before dawn, for whenever I have seen you it has seemed that you were going somewhere in great haste." He indicated a broad tree stump before him  
"Come and join me for it has been a long time since we have spoken.  
"The inn on the back roads.  
There seemed to be some anxiety in the elf's voice  
"I recall little of the encounter other than I was angry with you, for which I must apologise." He gave a slight smile, "I hope it nothing more than a surge of temper for which I owe you apology, but it seems that I can no longer be sure of that."

The wizard looked him closely noting the frown between his brows and the tightness of his mouth. It seemed the elven prince was in considerable anxiety about their last encounter. His mind drifted back to the shadowy inn, the smell of wood smoke and sour ale, the shadows and the glow of the fire and the raw hurt in the elf's voice. He spoke gently  
"Be easy Legolas, I too was angry when we met for I had seen the grief of your father and was not disposed to be kind to the any of the cause. But my anger did not survive the sight of the misery in your eyes and when you snapped at me for a perceived slight of your father I felt more relief than displeasure."  
He nodded again towards the tree stump~  
"Come sit with me a while and tell me of your wanderings and how you finally found your way home."

Legolas smiled as he came closer, a quiet and gentle smile  
"I am glad that I did not insult you or in any other way malign you for it is true I remember little of our conversation. I was as you say much weighed down by events, and by my own guilt, though at that time I did not see it for what it was.  
The wizard shook his head sadly as the elf price sat down beside him the green velvet of his tunic sitting oddly beside his own worn robe  
"Guilt or grief or both you were much afflicted, but I had been told of your leaving and was not as surprised as I might otherwise have been.  
Legolas looked away at that  
"I was right then, my father did send you to find me?  
"No, as I think I told you then. But I will admit I had visited here before we met and the matter had been mentioned. I had not realised of your departure before that time Oh I had noticed you were not with the returning host but your father merely told me you were about a commission for him and I had thought no more about it. It was not until I broke my journey back to Erebor in your father's Halls that the truth of the matter became apparent."

His mind slipped back to that earlier visit when he had first learned of the departure of Legolas, he recalled his surprise for that had not something he had expected. He sighed and puffed again upon his pipe, for even now he found it painful to recall Thranduil's grief and fear for his son at that time. Even at this distance the words still rang true in his head if he called upon them.

"I could not stop him for I knew that for him to return at that time would have hurt more than himself. Yet I knew there to be danger too in his going, for he will be alone with his bitterness and loss and I do not know how he will bear it. I have set him a task Mithrandir, for I would not have him set out in such anguish with nothing to bind him to this world. A task I know cannot be completed but that he will seek to accomplish. I can only hope that by the time he understands that he is not going to succeed the worst of his turmoil will be past.  
The king had turned away but the wizard had seen the sheen of tears within his eyes before he did  
"Yet I have heard no word from him." His voice had been calm but sad. "I had expected that he might reach the lands of the Rangers within a year and so send me word of his first failure from there, but no message by letter, nor by forest or by bird or beast has arrived, and my fear for him grows. I do not think that he is lost to us as yet but with each turning of the moon the chance of that must grow. You are about the byways much, I beg of you to seek him out if the chance offers itself and to send him home or send me word if you should come upon him, whichever seems the better to you."

He came back to the present and looked towards the silent Legolas who was still staring off into the distance a look of sorrow on his face. The wizard sighed and placed his hand upon the velvet clad arm  
"All your father asked of me was that, if I encountered you upon the road, I would let him know; for he had heard nothing of you and was much concerned.  
His companion shook his head  
"I know, and do not ask me why that was, why I chose to prolong his suffering in such a manner for I cannot answer you.  
"Perhaps at that time you still blamed him in some way for the way in which events fell out in Dale?  
Legolas sighed  
"Perhaps, but I truly do not know. But if I am truthful I do not think that I thought of him at all being much taken up with my own sorrows. I am greatly ashamed of it now, as I am ashamed of much of that time. I had not thought myself a fool but….  
He fell silent looking down at the ground, and he shook his head with another sigh.

The wizard nodded with a slight smile  
"Ah Legolas my friend, we none of us discover ourselves a fool without discomfort and you are not the only one who feels regret for the events at the Lonely Mountain. I too have doubts about my wisdom, was it wise of me to send Thorin on his quest at that time? Should I have taken time to discover more about him before I gave him the map? Should I have sent them round the forest rather than through it? Should I have sent word to your father of my intention? Should I have known more about the gathering forces of Sauron before setting such matters in train? All of these things I have wondered. Yet in the end what is done cannot be changed and the doubts and worries at my error serve little purpose, unless I learn not to make the same mistakes again. So then must it be for you.  
That brought another faint smile to the elf's face  
"So my father has also said and I know that it is true. I am striving to ensure that it is the case  
The smile died  
"Yet it seems I caused much pain to many and still I do not understand why. Now I look back upon that time Mithrandir I do not know myself, it is as if a sickness fell upon me and all that happened did so in a dream.  
Legolas drew a deep breath and met the wizard's eyes with a sad look  
"My conduct towards my father at that time cannot be defended by any means and now it seems that I treated more than him with distain and insult. But more than that," he paused for a moment as if the words were too terrible to say, "I was willing to accept any infamy on her part without question, caring only to please her and to see her as the best of us, when the truth is she echoed the worst that elves have ever done in the world. She might not have slaughtered thousands of her own, yet I can see now that the weakness that led the sons of Feanor to such evil lay within her. How did I not see it then? How did I allow myself so even begin to place a foot upon the path down the same road? For surely that's where he actions led?"

The wizard felt a wave of pity run through him for at that moment the elf beside him looked as lost and desolate as the one he had met in the inn. He reached out a hand and patted the green clad arm beside him  
"Well you suffered for it. For when I met you on the road there was little of the elf I had known to be seen. Enough pain was within you for me to think that your errors were foolish rather than considered.  
Legolas bowed his head  
"Perhaps so, but the errors were made all the same, and, as we have said, I must learn from them." He drew a deep breath and went on softly. "It is clear to me now that I must put all thoughts of love and marriage and family behind me for I cannot trust myself to judge wisely in that matter.  
"Legolas!" he protested, "Surly there is no need for such a grave punishment of yourself!  
"Not punishment Mithrandir, see it as self protection rather than that. I was so blinded by my feelings that I was ready to forgive any transgression on her part even up to the last one. Would I ever have said 'stop' to her, held her back from what she wished to do? I do not know but I cannot risk such a misjudgement on my part again, for where may it lead me next time? So I will put such hopes behind me and instead I will find my love and hope in family and friends, in our people and the forest and in comradeship and fellowship."

The wizard puffed on his pipe for a moment regarding the shadows in the eyes of the elf beside him, recalling what had gone before. After a moment he inclined his head  
"There are worse fates Legolas and though your father would wish to see you know the love he has known I can understand why you might feel this way. Yet it may not prove to be this way for always, in time you might find one with whom you can find love and confidence in that love.  
"Perhaps, but I do not think it will be within the world.  
"Have you told your father of this decision?  
"No, and I would not have you do so. He knows my doubts but believes that in time they will pass, yet I do not think he will be surprised if I remain unwed and he has been at such pains to tell me that there is much else in life that I do not think he will complain, and if it grieves him he will be sure I never know it."

The wizard nodded but said nothing more. He was well aware that Thranduil feared the matter with Tauriel was a step on a path set for his son that did not include home and family. But as Legolas had observed if it grieved the father the son would never know of it. Perhaps he was right and Legolas would only ever find happiness in the wedded state when he had left the world behind.

But that was something else for the future and for the moment he wished only to remove the renewed sadness from Legolas's eyes.

He rose to his feet; pipe clenched tightly between his teeth and held out his hand  
"Come my friend, the day fades and night grows chilly, I feel the fires and your father's best wine calling to me. Put the past aside, do not dwell on your errors but look to new beginnings. Your father is glad to have you home and this is a season to rejoice and look to the good things that will come. Those we can be sure of and for the moment the shadow remains just that. Let us go and feast and bolster our hearts against a time when the fires may be needed for another purpose.  
Legolas rose and brushed down his robe, seeming to brush away his sadness with the same motion, for when he looked up the spark was back in his eyes and the pain was gone  
"As you say Mithrandir, and I would be glad if you could keep my father distracted for I have a little matter of a bow to attend to."

The wizard raised his eyebrows but Legolas would say no more, and side by side they walked back through the dark forest to Thranduil's table.


	19. Chapter 19 A journey delayed

**A journey delayed**

It was a wonderful spring, the kind that had not been seen in the northern world since the coming of the shadow to Dol Guldur. Here in Thranduil's land the change was more noticeable than further south for the leaves were soft green, the sky where it could be glimpsed was of a soft blue and the ground was carpeted with woodland flowers in swathes of silken purples, whites and yellows. To those who remembered the days before the shadow it was as if this part of Mirkwood had truly become Greenwood the Great again.

On a day when the sun slanted buttermilk soft through the glades and even the giants towering around the forest river looked young the wizard found himself sitting quietly in one such glade considering his journey and pondering on the past and the future.

He had not intended to stay with the elves of Mirkwood beyond the days of the spring feast but as it ended and the business of the season within the forest was resumed he found himself unwilling to resume his trek east. The matter of Dale and Dain was important but not pressing and so he had resolved not to take to the road quite yet. Instead he lingered beneath the trees taking time to refresh his weary soul in this well of new life, and to set to rest some of the guilt he had carried since the battle of the Lonely Mountain; guilt and regret for the grief and loss that he had unintentionally caused by starting Thorin upon his quest. Both men and elves had lost much, so too had the dwarves if he owned it, and in the depths of winter with his weariness hanging upon him like a wet cloak he had wondered if his actions had been either wise or just. Then darkness had descended upon his thoughts and bitterness had gripped him and he had wandered away into the unpopulated places at the foot of the mountains to think and to wonder at how he might have arranged matters differently. Those deliberations had finally set him upon the road towards the lonely mountain and inevitably the elven road though the forest.

He had always intended to turn aside and visit the Elvenking if only for reassurance that that king remained within the world, for his last visit had raised fears that Thranduil might not remain, but he had not intended to stay long. But somehow the short visit of a day or two lengthened to several as the early spring rains drenched the trees and slicked the path with wet and dirt, then lengthened again as the clouds cleared and the New Year feast approached. Finding Legolas returned had also turned his thoughts away from the journey for he wanted to be sure that the prince had recovered from the deep anger and melancholy that had gripped him when last they met.

A week in Thranduil's halls had burned away the weariness and with it much of his self doubt and he found his thoughts returning to a more optimistic frame, and whilst he would still admit, if challenged, which he wasn't, that he might have managed the business differently had he known of Thorin's weakness, the matter of Smaug had always needed to be resolved. Though the army of Orc had been unexpected they had been close at hand and would have caused trouble for men and elf within a small span of time without his intervention. The deaths might have occurred a little later but the wizard was coming to the view that the battles of the north were far from over and those deaths were inevitable given the nature of Sauron and his ambition. The only consolation for them being that with the orc army so depleted and scattered it would be many layers before they could serve Sauron's purposes again' and so peace might come to this dangerous land for a while.

Even so there were some things that caused him lingering concern, though they were not of his making, and he was greatly relieved to see Legolas much improved in mood and demeanour, growing in comfort and ease with each sunrise. He was also deeply glad to see the returning confidence between the son and his father. That estrangement had caused him much disquiet, and for reasons he could not quite understand or explain even to himself. But the sense of foreboding that had gripped him when Thranduil had first told him of Legolas's departure, that had deepened when he had met the prince upon the road, had now faded to pale shadows of that they had been.

Yet as the wizard sat within this glade and watched the deer with their young come to graze on new grass, he wondered if it had been that foreboding that had brought him this way again, and if it was that which kept him here to watch and wait. Perhaps he would not feel able to leave until he was sure that father and son were restored to their old accord. Just that morning as the sun had first peered over the distant mountain tops he had watched Legolas go down to the butts with those of his old company and those who knew nothing of the recent past would have seen nothing remarkable in their behaviour. He puffed thoughtfully upon his pipe, with others it might not be speedy for the wizard knew that the prince had not regained all the ground he had lost as yet and that there were those who still looked at him with some doubt. Mainly his father's guard of course, those who had witnessed his abominable conduct in that street in Dale. But Thranduil told him that even they were softening, though the transgression was not forgotten. In time it would be dismissed as the folly of one who judged too quickly and spoke in haste, or so his father hoped. An error unbecoming in one of the prince's rank and one they would expect not to be repeated. Legolas himself seemed to be aware of the feeling and to accept the criticisms as just, something that he must work to overcome in time.

A rustle in the trees caused him to look up and he smiled to himself as a great white stag ambled into the clearing and stood calmly looking around him. Seeing the wizard it gave him a long hard look then its gaze moved on as if accepting the presence as unimportant. The other deer seemed to nod in welcome and the stag lifted its head to scent the air, the crown of antlers glinting in the sun as he turned his head this way and that, before crossing the clearing and adopting a watching stance on the edges of the herd.

The wizard sighed. Thranduil. Another reason he had returned and stayed perhaps, for his shock at the king's turmoil at his last visit had been great. The echoes of that feeling still sat with him. for it had been greater than he had expected, and for the first time the wizard had wondered if Mirkwood could be held should war return as he had known that it must be. Thranduil had always been a powerful figure, though he rarely extorted that power directly, shadowy to some but to those who knew him he was a vital and vigorous force, as yet unwearied by the many centuries of his life and strong in the face of his past grief. He was a just lord too, wise and even handed with all he met, content in his love of the forest, his people and his family. Though he could seem lordly to those who knew little of the elf lords of the past Thorin's party had done the only things that would rouse him to real anger, for they had disturbed his people and roused the great spiders to attack.

The wizard would not see the king's ease and authority disturbed for this realm was of more importance to the future and the world than perhaps even its king realised. Mirkwood was the furthest east of the few remaining elven realms, and of all of them the one most aware of the rest of the world, for of all of them he had maintained most contact with man and dwarf in this age. Unlike Galadrial and Elrond no elven ring preserved this realm, nor was it protected by high mountains as was Rivendell. Yet Thranduil's forest kingdom would be the last resistance against the threat coming from the east and north and if it failed then Sauron's forces would sweep easily across the river and through the pass over the mountains and into the lands of the west. Then the Golden Wood and Rivendell might well fall, despite the elven rings, and even if they did not there would be little to halt the progress of the easterling armies on a path to the Shire and then to the far west. What then of the Hobbits? What then of Bilbo? No the eastern defenders must be strong; Dale and the men of the lake, the people of Dain and Thranduil must be ready and able to fight should Sauron rise again in Mordor. Thranduil's grief had for the first time cast doubt upon that strength. For, when last the wizard had ventured into Mirkwood his friend had seemed stricken, his strength bleeding from him and the years of his life and their sorrows sat more heavily upon him than the wizard had ever seen.

Never before had the wizard doubted the Elvenking's ability to defend his realm, and yet at that time that was his fear.

But with his son returned and regaining his place in the Woodland Realm that torment seemed to be fading, and, as spring strengthened its hold on the forest, so grief and worry were losing their grip on Thranduil. As the days had lengthened the wizard had watched as the tension within him, tight as a long bow string then, had eased, and his smile, beautiful to behold, was seen again with ever increasing frequency. This last week he had progressed beyond smiles and his laugh rang out in his halls and the sound of his lyre had drifted across the river and wound itself around the sound of the breeze and the river. Not an hour ago the wizard had watched as the king of the wood had wandered alone through this glade, greeting bird and deer as he passed, reaching out his hand to touch the trees as he again disappeared into the shadows. Grief had lost its mastery over him and the king that the wizard had known before the quest of Thorin was emerging from the chill winter set upon him by events. Soon he would be truly himself again, and then the wizard could move on without worrying what he left behind him.

But for the moment that wizard was content to sit in the spring sunlight, smoke his pipe and watch the white stag as he finally lowered his head to crop the grass, satisfied that the world held no immediate threat to those he stood guard over.

But not all was as it had been and as he watched the smoke rise on the clear air and felt the warmth of a spring day upon his face the wizard knew that he couldn't tarry much longer for there was much he needed to do before the shadow returned. Not least in Dale where there was one whose motives he needed to better understand, for the king's description of the events of the days of the dwarf's captivity had troubled him and he wished he had learned of them on his last visit. Now the matter was more pressing for if evil was truly in her heart then perhaps he had left it too long already, for there was no knowing how far the poison might have spread. His hope was that the other possibilities Thranduil had mentioned would prove to be the true answer, yet he had no idea what they might be for the king would say no more than he had, and even he baulked at asking Legolas for explanation, assuming even he knew what was in his father's mind. No, he would ask no more here but see what Bard might tell him before he spoke to her.

But his labours here would not end there, Dain too he needed to be sure of before he turned his steps west again. If rumour were true then he was proving to be a better king under the mountain than perhaps Thorin would have been. He had treated all with fairness and honour after the battle and had continued to be a good lord and neighbour. The wizard was no longer sure that Thorin would ever have managed so well even if the dragon sickness had left him, for he had been of a proud and resentful turn of mind, and eager for more than was wise, in the time that the wizard had known him.

Thorin. He sighed and frowned towards the sky; he should have paid more attention to the dwarf and looked past the name of Durin. But then what cause had he to do so? Even knowing the story of the map and the coming of the dragon he would not have guessed at Thorin's madness, his obsession. Thranduil's words in the tent in Dale had been as much as shock to him as they had been to Dain. In his mind he saw Dain's face again as the Elvenking had listened unmoved by his anger and responded simply.  
"As I said, he was mad."

Dain had not wanted to hear it, he had blustered and shouted and cursed, had sworn and called Thranduil liar and cheat, yet in the end when the story was laid before him, when the king of the wood had met his roaring calmly and with questions he could not answer, then Dain had fallen silent. The wizard recalled clearly the growing understanding in the dwarf kings' eyes and the slowly building acceptance of a truth that was most bitter to him. Long before Thranduil fell silent Dain had believed and it left him with a terrible dilemma. How then had he resolved it? The Elvenking might believe that a form of accommodation had been reached between them but the wizard knew Dain of old and needed to hear it from his own lips.

No, he could not tarry much longer. Another week perhaps but no more; just time enough for the river to calm itself and for the roads to lose some of their mire. He would ask Thranduil for a horse, that would more than cancel out the further delay and he would be in Dale before the first spring fair. He drew more firmly on his pipe, yes that would serve his purpose well, for he could reach the lonely mountain far more easily on horse than by foot and it would allow him more time with the newest lord of men.

Above him the spring cloud had slid unseen across the sun and now the gentle patter of rain could be heard on the leaves above him. The wizard sighed and drew his cloak closer around him and his hood over his head. It was not yet warm enough to risk getting wet unnecessarily and so with one last smile in the direction of the deer, unbothered by the change in the weather, he rose to his feet and ambled back into the trees and the path towards Thranduil's palace.

Behind him the white stag raised its head again and watched him go with a gentle huff, its blue eyes tracking him easily deep into the shadows. Above them the elven guard that had kept unseen watch over the wizard as he sat started to follow him, only two remaining to raise the alarm if needed. The white stag, content that his herd remained in no danger, dropped his head to graze again only his pricked ears betraying his watchfulness.

XXX

The day was still young when the wizard found the king in his quarters. Thranduil was, standing on the hidden balcony and looking out across the tree tops, his robe and mail coat were cast side and he was dressed in a fine linen shirt and soft breeches clearly intending to spend the morning in the saddle but not far from home.

The wizard watched him in silence for a while, never doubting that the Elvenking knew full well he was there but that whatever thoughts possessed him for the moment they mattered more. His hand was raised to his chest and the wizard could just catch the glint of the chain that always hung around his neck, though usually well hidden, and knew what token was wrapped by his fingers. For a moment doubt assailed him and he wondered if he had mistook the kings' return to ease, but when the Elvenking turned his head his smile was soft yet not sad and the expression in his eyes was of serenity. When he spoke his voice was soft and there was a hint of surprise in it

'Mithrandir I had not looked to see you so soon, I thought your desire for your pipe would keep you wandering the woods for some time yet. Will you ride with us? We go to clear some debris from the river entrance and make some survey for the new river defences. I would know what we need to seek from outside the forest."  
The wizard smiled and crossed to join him.  
"You will continue to reinforce your halls then my lord, even though the shadow retreats?"  
The king shook his head.  
"We have spoken of this before you and I and we neither of us considers this respite to be the way it will always be. We both believe that the evil has not truly departed and will return soon enough. Is that not so?"  
He nodded and sighed.  
"True, though I would wish it otherwise. Already there are….., but that is for the future."

Thranduil's eyes fixed on him with a sharp look.  
"Already what? Why do you hesitate to speak? Do not fear that you may tell of something fell that I know not Mithrandir, for I have already heard the rumours of a new shadow in Mordor from others." He turned his eyes back towards the trees. I keep a constant watch upon the land between the forest and the Ash Mountains and when it can be done upon Mordor itself and my informants are swift and reliable." His voice hardened. "I stood once before those gates and fought the evil there for many bloody and weary years and I would not wish to do so again. But if the lands of men fail then those of the Firstborn who have not left the world will need to do so or all that we have suffered in the past will be for naught and our kin will once again know the pain and darkness of Sauron's pits."  
The wizard looked at him in consternation.  
"Do you now believe that it will come to that my friend that the lands of men will fall to the evil?"  
Thranduil shrugged.  
"I do not know, but in recent years I have felt past and present become entwined on more than one occasion, much to my regret and grief, and I have wondered if that foreshadowed things that are to be. Is that the case? I cannot say, yet I do not think it bodes well. The men of Gondor are stalwart and long have been enemies of the dark lord, as are the Riders of the Mark, yet they are as open to treachery now as they were in the past. In previous ages the great Lords of men were betrayed by their own and no other, just as the Elves were cursed by Feanors' pride and Noldor arrogance. The sons of Feanor are gone and the great cities of the Elves are lost and those of the Firstborn who remain within the world will not be so easy to reach by treason and treachery, even so the corruption of men may still be our downfall. So I will strengthen my Halls and look for ways to further defend the forest so that we may stand strong when the darkness reaches out to grip our throats."

The wizard sighed.  
"It is true that men have succumbed to the treachery of Sauron in the past, just as they did to his master, yet there is no reason to fear that for the moment."  
Thranduil smiled again, a smile both sharp and sad.  
"I remember Isildur and the carnage of the Gladdan fields and all the grief since borne by many because he would not destroy a band of gold. I recall the armies of the easterlings who ignored Sauron's cruelties for the promise of land and riches. The sons of men do not live long enough to gain wisdom my friend and they are easily seduced by fair sounding words and appeals to old wounds. The result is often bitter even to them and yet they do not learn and repeat their mistakes in each new generation. How many generations have there been since the last rising of the dark? No there will be those only too willing to tread old paths in response to old promises believing in a different outcome. Nor would defeating the dark lord end it. As in the past their lands will rise to glory only to fall again into the dust and there is nothing the Firstborn or you, Mithrandir, can do to prevent it. The blood of the greatest of the children of men is spent just as the time of my people dwindles."  
The wizard stared at him with a deep frown between his brows.  
"Yet you will fight if the darkness rises again?"  
"Oh yes, I will fight. For my people, my Realm and Arda I will not sink beneath the shadow. But I know Mithrandir that this will be the last battle for the Firstborn. Many of the people of Celeborn and Elrond will leave whatever the outcome, and if the rings fail or are lost…" he shrugged and turned away.

"What of your people?"  
Thranduil remained turned away.  
"We will endure for as long as they wish to remain in the world, though it may need to be in secret and hidden from that world in the end. This I have known since the shadow returned to Mirkwood. How long that time may be, and if the route west will remain open, I do not know. Perhaps the Valar will turn away from us and Valinor will be closed to us and we will need to linger here until the end of all things."  
The wizard stepped forwards and laid a hand upon the king's arm.  
"The Valar will never turn from you, in that you should believe. Your people are of the Firstborn and will always be dear to them. You lived within the girdle of Melian and saw the light of Valinor within her you should not doubt their care of you. The route west will always be there for you."  
The king turned back to face him and there was no smile.  
"But only as a route to Mandos Halls perhaps."  
"You cannot believe that!"  
"I would wish not to but the sins of the Noldor still haunt us and though they were pardoned the trust that once was there must be strained."

The wizard felt anger stir within him and his voice became sharp and hard, his hand tightened about the king's arm.  
"They were not your people's sins, nor were they those of the Sindar either. Why then should you have such doubts, unless like Feanor you consider that as Morgoth was so might they be!"  
Thranduil's hand came up to cover his.  
"I do not think it, but I know that they have forsworn any further intervention in the world. Yet if Cirdan sails whilst my people remain how then will we find the ships to travel west? It is true that my father brought books across the mountains that detail Teleri ship building but I cannot think that would be enough."  
The wizard smiled, his anger fading as quickly as it had come.  
"Have faith Thranduil, it will be enough. The way will be there when you need it or want it that I promise you."  
"Very well my friend, I will trust to your word. But that is for the future and if the darkness triumphs there will be none left to sail anyway. For the moment let us keep our thoughts on fixed on happier things. Will you ride with us today?"  
"No, I think the secrets of your Halls should remain with you, for who can say what will befall any of us in the fight ahead."

The king heard the sombre note in his voice and wondered what knowledge of the future the wizard possessed. But it was pointless to ask and so he let the matter drop and turned the conversation to other things close to his heart.  
"What think you now of Legolas. Is it my wish and fondness or does he seem easier, more as he was, to you?"

The wizard let go of the king's arm and stepped out onto the balcony. Below him the forest river ran swift and dark but the gates stood open and a little cluster of guards and other elves were conversing on the bridge, laughter drifted up and he thought he caught the notes of Legolas's voice in the babble he couldn't quite make out. He smiled and nodded.  
"Indeed he does my lord. Far better than when I met him on the road, and much improved even in my time here, as is his father."  
Thranduil ignored the rider and stuck to his main concern.  
"Yes, I had hoped that it was not just my wish. What of others? I think they begin to accept him again, what say you on that?"  
"I agree, though as you have said before there are those who are less forgiving."  
"But they will, in time. Even my most loyal guards will eventually accept that he meant me no hard."  
The wizard nodded.  
"I agree and I hope he will forgive himself as quickly." He gave the king a sideways look, unsure how much to say." Has he spoken to you about his resolve?"

The king sighed.  
"To forswear marriage I suppose you mean. Yes, he has."  
"What is your feeling on it?"  
"That it is his choice, and that for the moment it may well be a wise one. Yet I wish he did not feel so."  
"Why? He did not seem to be daunted by it, Indeed he seemed almost relieved to have come to the decision."

Thranduil was silent for a moment then he drew a deep breath before he replied.  
"Perhaps he is, and perhaps he is right to be."  
"But your fears go beyond that my friend, come I have known you too long not to know the signs when some unspoken fear of the future weighs upon you. What then bothers you? In time Legolas may repent of his decision and there will be nothing to prevent him changing his mind should he find one he desires to wed and who returns his affections."  
His companion inclined his head but his expression was sombre.  
"I would hope that to be the case but I fear that his error in the matter of Tauriel was the foreshadowing of something else. For while it is not unknown for an elf to want to marry someone who does not return their affections to carry it to the degree that my son did is not usual. I have wondered why he did so, and my fear is that fate has other plans for Legolas, that in his future there lie deeds that do not allow for wife or family. That fills me with fear and regret however noble those deeds might be. For they speak to me of war and danger and in such matters I would not have my son singled out by fate."

"Put that thought aside my lord for none know what fate has in store. Do you have other concerns?"  
"Not as such though it grieves me that he may never know the joy that comes with the union of two spirits as I have. That he may never hold his child in his arms and feel the love of a parent for the new life of their begetting nor receive the love of that child for its parent."  
"If that is so then nor will he know the grief of loss, as you have done."  
"True, and there are many other ways to know love, as I have told him. If the marriage bond is not his future then I would hope for him friends and good companions and trusted comrades and the love of Arda. But If that is to be so then I would wish the choice to be his; or for him to see it as such. Yet always I would hope that he someday finds his one love, founds his family, even if it must be in the west."

A shiver ran through the wizard then and he felt as if something, some dream had drawn close to the daylight world for a moment. He looked up and saw that Thranduil's eyes had a far away look, as if he too were regarding something distant and unclear. For elves time was not as men knew it, nor even as wizards knew it, and he wondered what the Elvenking saw when he bore that look.

Then a shout and a louder laugh drifted up from the bridge and the moment was gone, for the wizard at least.  
"You mentioned riding my lord. I have something to ask you about horses."


	20. Chapter 20 Thoughts before leaving

**Thoughts before leaving**

The days had slipped past in friendship and ease and the spring's nature continued to be gentle, even the rains were soft and the wind a caress rather than an assault. Even so the wizard dallied in the forest watching the elves resume their life amongst the trees with a smile never far from his lips and gladness in his heart. The elves of Mirkwood had stood against Sauron's influence with little help these last years and the fight had been bleak and unremitting, it was only just they should have a little respite and ease before the battle recommenced.

But there were other reasons for him to linger in this elven land for he found the forest very conducive to thought and Thranduil a useful sounding board for the conclusions of his thinking. The Elven king was shrewd and clever and he knew much about the world and so he could be relied upon to consider things properly. He never said 'it can't be so' without good cause but nor was he willing to accept anything simply because it was a wizard proposing it. They had many conversations in the long spring evenings or walking the glades around his halls or riding through the land further south where once the spiders had held sway.

It was on one such ride that Thranduil halted and looked around in silence for some time as if seeking something. Here the trees grew high and the branches still showed the twisted shape of the days of shadow, while the land beneath them remained darkened by venom and bore little in the way of grass or flower, instead being covered by a thick blanket of dry and withered fallen leaves and, in places where the wind had rolled the leaves away, by a brittle brownish moss that was only just giving way to its softer, healthy kin. There was no blossom here, no scent of spring, instead the air was still rank as if it had not moved or been refreshed in a long time. Yet this desolation could not have been the cause of the look upon the king's face for it was not new to him.  
"What is wrong my Lord?" The wizard asked after some minutes of silent scrutiny.

Thranduil cast him a wry look.  
"It was here that Oakenshield was taken, after he disturbed the spiders and needed to be rescued. The others were taken closer to the river but I am sure that this was where he was caught."  
"Here?" Gandalf looked around him in surprise, "So far from the road? Why did they end up here? I told them to stay on the road on pain of enchantment, for I know your people's magic to be strong my lord. Why then did they wander so far from the given way?"

The Elvenkings wry look became hard and disdainful.  
"I do not know, for neither he, nor his companions when we took them, could manage civility enough to tell me. All I received from them were curses, insults and abuse, even though they trespassed on my lands, roused the spiders to fury and disturbed my people. They were treated kindly enough, given food and drink, and I gave them time to come to their senses, but not a word of explanation for their conduct did I get from them."  
The wizard sighed and shook his head  
"Ah well, I doubt that they meant anything by it and I suppose we should not be surprised, dwarf manners are strange to most. It took all of Elrond's restraint not to throw them out of Rivendell and there they were invited in and were held to be guests. But I do not think there was any malice in their misbehaviour."  
"Perhaps not in Elrond's house but be in no doubt that their conduct here passed all excuse. Nor was it only their manners, for their wits too left much to desired. I had guessed at their objective and offered aid, for it seemed to me better that I did so than to have them tramping around a dragon inhabited mountain alone, for all it might seem to be sleeping. My proposal was fair and I asked little enough in return, but it was then that Oakenshield's madness became truly apparent, once it had …...well it was clear that he could not allow any agreement between us and it is true that I might have reconsidered my offer of help when I better understood his sickness. But as things fell out I was not called upon to do so. He escaped and the rest followed as the sunrise follows the fading stars."  
A sad look flitted across his face and he sighed.  
"Little it availed him in the end and he would have done better to have stayed my prisoner. Much as I like and value your Bilbo Baggins I think it would have been better for all if he had left the dwarves behind locked doors until they learned their manners."

Gandalf shrugged.  
"Perhaps, but there can be no knowing that now."  
Thranduil watched him with a deceptively mild expression.  
"How did he manage to release them?" he said softly, "No one has ever been quite clear on that matter. That they escaped by the river door I know but how did he manage to obtain the keys unseen?"  
There was a long moment of silence before the answer came.  
"I understand that there was a feast my lord and that the holder of the keys was… distracted for a while. Bilbo took advantage of that and put them back before the guard realised and came to look for them."  
The king nodded slowly as if considering the answer, though the wizard doubted that he was.  
"Yes there was indeed a feast the night they disappeared, which makes it all the more strange that he was not seen given that so many elves would be milling around."  
He turned an enquiring look upon his companion, who could not hide his unease at the question even so he answered.  
"Hmmp. Well, he is a resourceful little fellow and blessed with a Hobbit's luck."  
The king nodded again.  
"Indeed he is, for he would have needed much luck to stay unseen within my Halls for the time the dwarves were imprisoned, and yet more still to find the cells they were held in without being detected."  
Seeing the growing discomfort in the wizard's face Thranduil smiled a gently mocking smile and dismissed the matter with a languid wave of his hand.  
"Ah well," he said softly, "he is safely returned to the Shire now and so I expect on one will ever know how he managed to move through my Halls as if invisible."  
The wizard looked at him without expression as he replied.  
"That is probably the case my lord."

The Elvenking's gaze became as hard as diamond though his voice was still soft and gentle.  
"Let us hope that it is for all our sakes. The Shire is long way away but not far enough to be beyond reach of some. It would be wise for a watch to be put upon our Hobbit friend just in case he decides to test his luck, and his invisibility, again and sets off on another adventure. For I am not sure that his story is fully told as yet."  
That brought a worried frown to the wizard's brow.  
"That is true, though I do not think that he will venture far afield again, I think his thirst for adventure has been truly slaked, at least for many years. But I agree that a careful watch should be kept, for the Shire is a place of innocents and Bilbo deserves to live the rest of his life in peace, he has seen enough horrors for one Hobbit's life time."  
Thranduil looked away and stared into the trees.  
"We have all seen enough horrors my friend, but I suspect that will not save us from seeing more in time."  
The wizard's expression became grim.  
"No my Lord, I fear that you are right though I still have some hope that matters will not come to such a pass. But if they do we must be strong and united. Which is a timely reminder, I should be about my business again for I would know where our allies and enemies are. Much though I have enjoyed your hospitality I think that the time has come when I must resume my travels, for there is a great deal to do and the time in which it might be done is uncertain."

The king inclined his head.  
"Very well, when do you wish to depart? The road towards the lake or Dale is not an easy one at this time of year, a good five days ride even if the weather continues kind and I assume you will need a horse and suitable and sufficient provisions for the journey?"  
"That I will for I have delayed more than I should have and now need to move with some speed. I thank you for your generosity in the matter. As to when, it must be soon I think, tomorrow perhaps, if the weather holds fair, no later than a day or two if it does not. There is much to do here in the east before I return west, if indeed that is where my path leads me."  
He cast the king of Mirkwood a sideways look and spoke in a distant tone.  
"I travel to Erebor to speak with Dain but I will go first to Dale to talk with Bard. While there I would speak with your banished elf if you will permit it, for there are things about her story that perplex and worry me and I would seek answers for my concerns from her in person. Will you give me leave? An introduction to the elvish garrison in Dale and a message giving your consent to my meeting with her would set minds at rest."  
The king slowly nodded his head, the sun shone brightly on the pale gold sheen of his hair and set the colours of the flowers in his spring crown aglow but for a moment winter was in his expression, then in the blink of an eye the shadow was gone and there was no hint of reluctance in is voice.  
"Very well you shall have it, but there is a condition to my permission, that you inform me of any remark or answer of hers that gives you concern, or that seems to you to throw new light upon her actions. The garrison captain will bring any communication to me; it will not seem strange for there is regular discourse between us."  
The wizard shot him a wary look but nodded his agreement.  
"It shall be as you wish my lord, though I would hope for all our sakes there will be nothing to report."

"I too." the king said softly, "She has caused enough grief however innocently it might yet prove to be, but I would wish that her only malice was towards me. I hope you will find nothing more than that."  
Gandalf stared at him in frowning silence for there was a hint of something in the melodious voice that suggested other fears, or other knowledge. Then, like the hint of winter a moment before, the solemnity of the king's expression melted into a smile and his voice took on a lighter note.  
"Come then we have time to visit the water fall on the far side of the high hills before we ride home, I have been told that the river banks are yellow with celendine again, the first time since the spiders fled."

With that he turned his horse and motioned for the waiting guard to follow them. As Gandalf fell in beside him he could not help but wonder what it was that Thranduil was not telling him.

XXX

Though the spring was gentle the bright days were still short and darkness had already fallen when the wizard sought out Legolas, finding him in the company of a group of archers in one of the many small meeting halls within Thranduil's underground palace. Catching the wizard's eye he made his farewells to the merry party and stepped out to join him.

Gandalf took his arm and drew him forward.  
"Come and stroll with me, for tomorrow I will resume my journey, weather allowing, and there are matters I would speak of with you before I leave. But I would not speak of them here."  
Legolas gave him a puzzled look but fell into step beside him as he moved away from the door and down the passageway.

They ascended a flight of torch lit steps in silence and came out onto the soaring stair that led towards the palace archives, deserted at this time on a spring evening. There the wizard led the way into the library and having assured himself they were alone he sank into a wide seated chair and indicated that Legolas should take the one beside it. The elf did as he was bid and smiled at his companion.  
"I shall be sorry to see you leave" he said, " but no doubt you have much business to be about, for if my father is right then the time of evil is not over and the battle against the darkness hurries towards us."  
"Yes, and I agree with him on that. I have things to do to the east and then I must move north and cross back into the west, I would be across the mountains before the first heavy snows which leaves little enough time. Perhaps I have stayed here too long but I admit I couldn't resist your father's hospitality and the sight of the pair of you finding your way back to where you once were."  
Legolas smiled slightly then nodded and settled further back into his chair.  
"Well then, of what do you wish to speak that needs such privacy? None here would betray your trust."  
"No I do not think that they would but some of which I need to speak touches you very closely and is better spoken of in privacy, I would not open healing wounds or cause you or others disquiet if a little care can avoid it."

A shadow passed across the elf prince's face and he sighed.  
"Then it must be that you wish to speak again of Dale. But what more is there to be said? All know my folly and the sorrow that flowed from it; there is no secret there to be guarded."  
The wizard smiled at him.  
"Not guarded, rather respected for the pain I fear it still causes."  
Legolas gave him a considering look.  
"Pain? Of that I am not sure. Regret, there is that in full measure, and sorrow aplenty too for my treatment of my father and my people. But the pain for myself, if that is what you mean, is passing. Joy has not yet returned to me, and happiness remains only a visitor I admit, but the bitter winds of sorrow and grief that shrivelled my heart and spirit have abated. I no longer feel the deep despair that gripped me in my time upon the road."  
The wizard's smile widened and his voice was warm.  
"I am glad to hear it, for whatever lessons it might have brought have been learnt, or so I judge it. To preserve the pain further would be perverse."  
Legolas returned his smile.  
"So my father says, and I am willing to grant it. There remains some sense of loss I confess but for what I am no longer sure, and even that diminishes quickly now. I may not yet be as I was before but I no longer doubt that I will be so in time. So ask your questions without fear of the consequences and I will answer them as best as I may."

Gandalf's smile faded.  
"I head first to Dale and it is of that I wish to speak as you have said, though my concern is not your part in matters, rather your opinion on others involved."  
The elf looked at him with a slight frown.  
"Then how can I be of help for I saw little of the battle in the city? But I will assist where I may, ask what you will."

There was silence for a moment as the wizard gathered his thoughts, then he gave Legolas a piercing look and when he spoke his voice was sharp and abrupt.  
"The banished elf is my concern, and not only for her deeds in city, your father spoke of her trying to kill an orc taken and brought here to question. Why do you think that she did so?"  
Surprise settled upon Legolas's face for this was one question he had not expected. But he gave the question due consideration before he shook his head as he answered.  
"In truth I do not know, any more than I know why I did not protest at her actions at the time for it was a most strange thing for any elf to do. My father was clearly taken aback and protested, sent her away, yet I do not think that I gave it much thought; though I recall that I remonstrated with my father for his execution of it not long afterwards."  
The wizard's sharp look remained though there was nothing accusing in the scrutiny.  
"So you made no assessment of why she acted in such a manner?"  
"Not at the time, nor in the time immediately afterwards when I caught up with her at the river, nor when we were in Dale. Only later, when I was on the road and again when I first returned home did her actions and my acquiescence in them, strike me as being strange."

Gandalf nodded and fell silent for a moment and when he spoke again his tone was softer.  
"When you did think of it, what then, how then did you see her actions?"  
Legolas spread his hands in a gesture of confusion.  
"Strange as I have said, It was clear that there was much anger in her but at what that anger was directed, or why it arose, I could not say."  
"Her love for the dwarf perhaps, would you judge that sufficient to explain her actions?"  
"No I did not think so, not then." Legolas replied slowly."It was true that the orc seemed to taunt her with the fate of the dwarf, but that can only have been chance for there was no means by which it could have known of any partiality on her part, and no orc would consider the possibility of such affection between elf and dwarf. If I thought of it at the time I saw her actions as a response to the taunts rather than to the substances of them."  
The wizard frowned.  
"What would you say of the matter now?"  
Legolas considered that in silence for a moment his eyes looking past the room to memory. Then his gaze came back to the present and as he looked at his questioner the quality of it changed, the depth seeming to reflect the years of his life, for though the son lacked the span and experience of his father he was well passed his majority and had seen more than ten centuries within the world.  
"Love?" he said softly, "No, now I cannot see how she could have been in love at all, and though I took her words and tears on Ravenhill to be grief I am no longer sure of their significance, for they do not seem to be right somehow. Not that I would have wished it upon her but there seemed to be a depth of hurt that was not truly there."

His companion nodded his understanding.  
"Your father has said something similar. He allowed her claim of love to stand as real at the time but he was of the opinion that it and her grief would prove false in the end but that her belief in them was genuine at that time. What would you say on that?"  
Legolas smiled sadly.  
"I know that is his belief and I would agree I think, though what the full truth of the matter was I could not say."  
"Then to return to the original question, what do you think was the reason for her assault upon the orc?"

Legolas considered that for a moment before shaking his head,  
"I do not know. It was strange and unexpected as I have said, for I had thought her anger to be a ruse to try and force the orc to speak and I did not truly expect her to attack it. But why does it concern you, do you see something sinister in it?"  
The wizard sighed.  
"Perhaps, for there are other readings than love for why she behaved as she did.  
A surprised and wary look passed across Legolas's face at that.  
"That is true but I do not think it to be the case. Does my father think so?"  
"He is unsure, but as you he does not think that care for the dwarf was reason enough to explain her behaviour."  
That brought another gesture of uncertainty.  
"It was clear at the time he was displeased at her actions and perhaps even a little shocked. Yet he killed it himself not much later, do you see something sinister in that too?" A cold note had entered Legolas's voice, "For that I will not consider possible. I do not understand why he did it, he will not speak of it to me and I cannot demand that he does, but I will not allow there might be some evil reason for it."

The wizard gave him a long, straight, look.  
"Be easy Legolas I do not suggest such a thing, I know well why your father acted as he did at that moment, and I know too the regret he feels for it."  
Another look of surprise flitted across the prince's face, a look tinged with a hint of hesitant curiosity which was reflected in his voice.  
"Did he tell you why, will you say? I would like to know but as I berated him for his actions at the time I cannot press him on the matter. Yet I would wish to understand for I was holding the orc even a  
"So he said, and it grieves him to think that he might have risked harm to you."  
Legolas smiled and shook his head.  
"My father's skill with a sword is such that I would not fear that. But the orc was no danger why then did he kill it at such a time and in such a manner? If he had ordered it executed after we had finished questioning it none would have complained, even so I think his undertaking to release it was meant, so why then the blow?"  
The wizard shrugged.  
"There is little mystery there; he struck as a reflex and without thought, responding to to what had been not what was, his mind being lost in another place and time." He sighed, his expression grim. "Elvish memory can be a burden as well as a boon and those who saw battle at the Dark Lord's gates in that earlier age carry with them many memories that those who did not know that terrible fight cannot imagine. Memories that remain as real as the present and that can entwine with it if the circumstances so conspire."  
Legolas nodded, a sudden thoughtfulness in his face.  
"All elves know this for memory is not the past to us as it is to the children of men or dwarves. Is that what happened then, did the past and present come together for him at that moment?"  
Yes, or so it would seem; as for why then, and in that way, he has not said, if indeed he knows. It may have been something the Orc said, a phrase or word even, or the sound of its voice, or just its very presence, but at the moment he struck the blow, past and present came together and he was at the black gate again, hearing the cry of Sauron's orcs, and at war."

Legolas thought on that for a second or two and then he smiled slightly.  
"Looking back it is true that he seemed distant at that moment and strangely so given what had just occurred," he said softly, "also that he appeared taken aback by the Orc's death at first. Yet I paid no attention to it and he passed it off quickly enough. At that time I was displeased at his action and only concerned that he had killed it when it may have told us more, and when he had said he would release it."  
The smile died to be replaced by a look of sadness.  
"But why did he not tell me this, does the wound of my harsh words to him run so deep?"  
He looked down at his hands.  
"Whilst other griefs diminish and grow grey and cold this is one remains hot and raw. He strives to turn my unkindness to him aside as small and unimportant, claims the hurts I inflicted are discarded as of no consequence, but I do not think that is quite the case. There are times, if I catch him unaware when something reminds him, when his eyes betray him and the shadow of the hurt still lingers."

The wizard looked at him with both sorrow and kindliness in his face and his voice was gentle.  
"He would be an unnatural father if there was no hurt in the circumstances and I do not think it is entirely worn away as yet, but be assured that it weighs as a feather with him and in time even that little weight will be shed."  
"I hope that you are right, forever is a long time to carry that pain."  
"No less a time to carry such guilt." The wizard responded. "As long as the sins are not repeated there is no reason they should be a constant burden."  
Legolas nodded.  
"I know that, and he would not wish me to be so burdened for he has said as much. But it was not of this you wanted to speak. What of Tauriel? Do you think there was something sinister behind her actions?"  
The wizard shook his head.  
"That remains to be seen, and I hope to speak with her and ease my mind of its worry. For it is not just the matter of the orc Legolas," he surged to his feet and began pacing as if he could no longer bear to be still. "If it were I would be inclined to let it pass, but that is not the only strangeness where she is concerned. So many of her actions are hard to explain and appear open to some malign interpretation."  
Legolas watching him pace, and seeing the worry in his face, frowned again.  
"Such as? What is it that disturbs you so?"  
"Much, far too much, where she is concerned! Things that she claims to have known but could not have done in an innocent manner, her infatuation with one she barely knew, her abandoning of her post and your people without hesitation, her actions on the lake and her threats to your father. None of these would I expect of an elf, much less one of a captain of the guard!" He sighed, "I only wish to dispel the cloud of doubt that hangs around those actions, I must be sure for Sauron is devious and if he has found a way to draw an elf into his web I would know of it."

Horror drifted across Legolas's face,  
"That cannot be the answer! I admit that her conduct was odd and unbecoming but I cannot believe that she would have fallen so far as to act as an agent for the shadow. In a previous age some of our people were deceived I know, beguiled by the fair look he wore and gentle words, and high was the cost of that mistake. No elf would be so foolish as to listen to the words of one who told such lies agai  
His expression became weary  
"But had you said to me before Oakenshield arrived here that she would abandon her post to follow a dwarf she barely knew I would have laughed at you. Where she is concerned my judgement remains uncertain it seems. Yet all that I knew of her in the past says that her heart remains free of evil however foolish she may have been."  
The wizard gave him a sombre look.  
"I hope that you are proved right my friend, for if Sauron has found a way to convince an elf to hear him our case is dire indeed. Yet in that earlier age you spoke of the words of Sauron first seemed fair, even noble, only later was the rottenness and evil at the core of them revealed. Sauron can wear the threads of honour and mercy when it suits his purpose and summon high sounding words. My concern is that she, like some in the past, might not have recognised the true meaning of them."

Legolas inclined his head.  
"It is true that he beguiled elves with fair words but we are warned against the possibility of evil masquerading as good now so that such may not happen again. As for our people, we have lived each day with the evidence of creeping evil for a long time and know its look and sound, and my father has always insisted that such aspect of the Lore that provide protection against such confusion is taught to all."  
"A wise elf indeed and a good and watchful king, but Sauron is skilled at finding weakness even in those who seem strong. Are you sure in your own mind that her purpose was foolish, or perhaps selfish, rather than that her deeds were in service of a blacker purpose?"  
"In truth I may say that I am. I saw no sign of evil as such, or even of ill intent, other than perhaps the attack upon the orc. The threats to my father are a different matter and cannot be excused on any count, but at the time I did not see them as real, nor do I now think them so. For the rest, her conduct was not as I would have expected but then nor was mine, and I can assure that my folly was not in the service of any dark lord."  
He frowned at the recollections of those days.  
"If I were asked to explain her actions I would say that there was some longing within her that the dwarf seemed to fill for a while. What it might be I could not say, nor why it led her away in such a manner. But I remain sure that whilst her judgement proved faulty she had not succumbed to any dark power."

There was silence for a moment then the wizard sighed and laid his hand upon the elf prince's shoulder.  
"I hope that you are proved correct in that, and it's true that your father, who must have known her as well as any, has hinted that there may be other explanations. I will visit for myself when I reach Dale and see what I judge to be the case."  
He patted the shoulder beneath his hand.  
"I have agreed to send your father word of my reading of her before I leave Dale and I am sure he would not deny you the knowing of it if you so wish. I doubt I will return here on my journey west again for time will be short but I shall return when I may and I hope to find you fully returned to yourself, and perhaps even a little wiser than you were before Thorin crossed your path. I too learned from the matter and made mistakes I would not wish to repeat, as did your father I expect. My concern is that it has not increased his likng for dwarves. Unfortunate when one of his closest allies is one. But come, supper awaits and I would enliven my last evening here with talk of things other than war and darkness."

Legolas rose to his feet.  
"Be easy, there is no implacable dislike for dwarves on my father's side despite the history or our people with them, some caution perhaps, distrust even, but nothing more. No, my father's dislike of Oakenshield had little to do with his ancestry and a lot to do with his manners. Though it is true that Dain seems little better from what I have heard."  
An odd look flashed across the wizard's face  
"There was an issue between them. Thorin again it grieves me to say, though I think the substance of that has been dismissed, but relations will remain strained I fear with much of the stiffness being on Dain's side."  
Legolas laughed as they both strolled towards the door.  
"My father has been a king for a long time he has learned to deal with such situations with grace."

'Which may of itself be a part of the problem' the wizard thought as he recalled the meeting between Thranduil and Dain in Dale after the funeral. But he said nothing more of the matter as he followed his companion out of the door, for it seemed that Legolas knew nothing of Thorin's behaviour towards his father and it was probably better that he did not.


	21. Chapter 21

The road to Dale – setting out

In the end it was another day before Gandalf said goodbye to the elves of Mirkwood and resumed his journey. Thranduil and Legolas, along with a number of the king's guard, had escorted him through the wood to the point where the road emerged from the trees and began to wend its' way across open land towards the river and the marshes. There they bade him farewell and reassured him of his welcome when next he returned west. Then they turned their horses and headed back into the trees and about other concerns, some business to do with the crossing of the enchanted river if Gandalf had caught their conversation correctly at supper the night before.

Gandalf frowned as he watched Thranduil's tall form disappear into the shadow of the forest, his son, as easy in the saddle as the father, close at his right hand. There was much about the Elvenking he had not yet fathomed which left some unwelcome questions given recent events. His people's magic was strong but what kind of magic was it? As for the king himself, well he held his gates by an even stronger magic of his own and yet he had no elven ring, it baffled the wizard and he didn't take well to being perplexed. For all his time amongst the elves and his many visits to Thranduil Halls across the age he had never discovered the nature of Thranduil's power, and that made him uneasy when he thought of it. In which feeling he was not alone, for had been clear when he had broached the matter in an enquiring spirit in Lorien and Rivendell that it made other elves uneasy too. Only Galadriel was unconcerned by it, for when asked she had smiled and turned the matter away with a graceful movement of her hand and a gentle,  
"There is nothing to concern you my lord, it does not flow from darkness nor would it ever be bedfellow with the shadow."

With that she expected him to be content and so he had been until his last visit to the forest when he had been forced to face the reality of the matter of Legolas and Dale. Something he had brushed away as unimportant until he saw its consequences. Then Thranduils' grief had caused him to wonder again, but this time with more concern for the outcome should the King of Mirkwood fall to his grief or quit Middle Earth. With that power lost, whatsoever it might be, what would happen to the forest and the spreading shadow?

But that was in the past, or so it seemed and for this reason he watched the Elvenking and his son swallowed up by the trees, having waved his last farewell, with a relatively easy heart. This leave taking was less troubling than the last one for he left behind him a realm that was enjoying an interlude of peace, and a father and son who were finding their way slowly but surely back to where they had been before Thorin had so rudely disrupted their lives.

Gandalf sighed as he turned his horses' head, a very fine elf horse it was too, towards the direction of Dale, Would Thranduil ever entirely forgive him for sending the dwarves though his kingdom he wondered? He hoped so for he had no doubt that he would need the Elvenking's help again at some point in the future, and it might not be so very distant a future either. Mirkwood offered things that neither Rivendell nor Lorien could match, advantages he would prefer not lose those before the battle was over if he could manage it.

XXX

Out of earshot of the wizard Legolas looked sideways at his father with a slight frown.  
"Why does he go to Dale, is it truly as he said or is there some other reason  
Thranduil smiled slightly.  
"Oh he goes for the reasons he claims, but if those are all the reasons for his journey I doubt if even he knows."  
Legolas's frown deepened.  
"How so?" He asked softly. "Is he so tossed by the winds of fate that he does not see his course?"  
He cast a quick look back over his shoulder but the grey wizard was gone.  
"A bad oment for us all if that is the case, for he holds a seat on the White Council does he not?"."

The king was silent for a moment staring at his horses ears with head tilted and a look of consideration upon his face, a sure sign that he was weighing something in the balance, Accustomed to this his son waited patiently until the decision was made. Eventually his father spoke, keeping his voice low even though there were none with them than his most trusted guard.  
"Yes he does, though you know well my view of that Council. But even so I do not think he always knows the forces that guide him."  
"Why?"  
The king sighed slightly.  
"Once, at the beginning of this age, when Cirdan first sent word to me of their coming he told me that the Istari do not know all the twists and turns of the road before them, for if they did it might be too great a load for even them to bear. Dangerous too, should one of them should fall to darkness for any reason. Nor can they see the plan and will of the One any more clearly than those who dwell in Middle Earth by virtue of birth. I do not think the grey wizard an exception to this. Indeed I think he might know least of all for Cirdan believed that his would be the greatest burden. In the years that I have known him I have seen him many times baffled and at a loss, and I have seen him err more than once."

"As with Thorin?"  
The king frowned before he inclined his head.  
"Yes as with Thorin. Though I do not doubt that he believed he had good reason to wish the king under the mountain returned, and in that he might have been correct. His error was in the manner in which he sought to achieve it and in being poorly informed on the size and actions of Bolg's army."  
"Perhaps that is so, but how could anyone have known?" Legolas mused.  
His father shrugged.  
"The Eagles did, the Windlord made that clear. The movement of the Gundebad army through the mountains was therefore known to some and he had only to ask if had any such suspicions, as he did."  
Legolas thought about that for a moment and then he gave a wry smile.  
"You did not ask."  
His father sighed.  
"No I did not but there had been no reason for me to do so, not whilst Smaug guarded the route to Mirkwood from the north. I did not plan on removing a dragon and leaving a mountain full of gold unguarded!" He gave a small and bitter laugh, "had I done so I would have perhaps been more cautious. When I did know of the possibility of such an army there was no time for me to seek more knowledge of the matter."

He looked at his son with a smile.  
"Our wizard friend is not a warrior Legolas, I do not know if he has fought in any battle before but if he has then he has forgotten much he would have learned. But I too will not make such a mistake again, the army of Bolg is destroyed for now, and though the cost was high it does mean that the Dark Lord will need to delay whatever plans he might have made that required them. So we will have peace for a while, Dol Guldar is deserted for the moment, Sauron licks his wounds in Mordor, the creatures of shadow have withdrawn and both Asog and Bolg are gone. It will be a short peace I fear but a welcome respite nonetheless."  
Legolas frowned at his father.  
"You do not think Dol Guldar will remain deserted? Should we not seek to destroy it while it is?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"I spoke of this with Mithrandir at some length during his stay and it is his wish that we do not venture there, for the place remains evil and he doubts we would be allowed to destroy it if Sauron has further use for it. In that I find I agree with him and I would not lose more of our people to a foolish quests with the possibility of unforeseen consequences. So we will leave it be, though I do not doubt the darkness will return when Sauron is ready."  
He gave Legolas a long, steady, look and spoke softly.  
"Do not underestimate the evil of that place Legolas. If we were to make an attack upon it now then the consequences may be as dire as had we struck at it whilst Sauron was there, and the outcome of that would have been terrible I believe."  
"But they drove him out, surely that means the place is left unprotected? He can have no time to make other preparations."  
Thranduil's face was suddenly shadowed.  
"Perhaps, but then again that might not be the true nature of events. Sauron was ever devious and Mithrandir is not persuaded that they banished Sauron at all, even with the power of the White Lady."

"But he is gone you say?" Confusion was clear in Legolas's voice.  
"Oh yes he is gone, but it is possible that he always intended to leave when he was ready and that the most the White Council did was force him to move sooner. In which case his plans were made long ago. But even that might not be the case and he may have always intended to leave in such a way."  
Legolas thought about that for a moment then sighed.  
"Then he will return there."  
His father shook his head slowly his gaze fixed in the depths of the trees before them.  
"Return himself? That I doubt, but there are servants he may seek to quarter there as his advances his plans. I think that he will remain in Mordor where it will be hardest to assail him. I fear that once again we will need to fight him at his gates, though I pray that another way will be found for I have fought in such an assault in the last age and I would not see another one in this age."

Legolas seeing the shadow deepen in his father's face taking on that look of loss and grief that always came upon him when the battles at the Black Gate was thought of, nodded and said no more on the matter.

XXXX

The road towards Dale was much safer now than it had been when Thranduil had marched his host down it on the way to secure the Lonely Mountain, and without the need to be on his guard against troll and Orc it was possible for the wizard to allow his mind to wander, and he had much to think about. So he rode with little care for his surroundings, the outlying trees of Mirkwood to his left, their dancing leaves now showing green and silver in the spring sunshine, and to his right the lands down to the river where tall grasses and small bushes were also starting to sprout. But to all of this verdant beauty he was blind his mind being occupied with far less pleasant things.

For two days he travelled the road at an easy pace and without incident, and with no occupation other than avoiding the ruts and windblown debris and his own thoughts. This was no hardship for him for he was accustomed to travelling alone. All around him he saw the scars of the days of orc attacks, wayside graves covered in mounds of stone, and small shrines set up beside the road, gave testament to those who had lost their lives fighting the creatures off, and these would only be relicts of the successful ones, of those who lost the battle there would be no trace. Even now with the orc threat all but gone Gandalf was glad o know that the elves of the wood would be watching him from the tree tops on the forest side. For this land between the forest and the river, like the land to the north between the forest and the mountains was within the bounds of the Elvenking's Realm and his guards would not be far away. Thranduil had not promised him a guard, and he had not asked for one, but he knew that king well enough to be sure that he would not be left unprotected whilst he remained within sight and reach of the forest and within his borders.

When the days travel was over and the early darkness fell upon the road he threaded his way into the forest again, finding shelter in the stands of trees and screens of bushes close to the road where he might light a fire with little worry of being seen by other travellers, if there were any.

He had delayed longer than he intended but the horse and the weather would allow him to make better speed than he had when he had previously travelled this road, which he had not done since the final abandonment of Dale some years after the dragon arrived. Then the road had been dangerous indeed and sleeping, even on the darkest night, not something to be considered. Now he was easy enough to let his guard down as he sat in his small makeshift camp, and to take his time over his supper.

As he sat beside the fire his thoughts continued to range across past and present, reviewing his mistakes and their impact for future plans.

Much of his cogitation was concerned with events far from this road, in the Shire where Bilbo had resumed his comfortable Hobbit life and settled down beside his fireside to write his story of adventure. As he thought of it the wizard's expression drifted between smile and frown with a leavening of unusual, for him, uncertainty. He wondered if he had understood Thranduil's remarks in that glade in the forest correctly. At the time he had no doubt of their meaning but now he wondered if he might not have been mistaken. For how could the Elvenking have guessed at his own suspicion? True Thranduil had fought at the gates of Mordor and knew the nature of the rings of power, it was also true that he had known Isildur well, had been a friend of the mortal lord as Elrond had been, and would have known how that lord had escaped the Gladden field, but had he truly understood the implications of Bilbo's unseen activities within his halls?

If he had, and the wizard was of the mind to think that was the case, then what had he told his son about the matter?

Gandalf sighed; hopefully he had told him nothing, for the fewer who shared any suspicion of Bilbo's treasure the better and if Legolas was called upon to travel on his fathers business it would be better that he knew nothing of it. Thranduil was worldly wise and familiar with the ways of the shadow, he would not speak of it to anyone unless he had good reason to believe that they already knew; the king had asked many questions in the most disparate and casual of ways before he had risked so a direct comment upon the matter with the one who had seen Bilbo back to the Shire. Legolas might not be so circumspect if his behaviour regarding the banished elf was any indication. But Gandalf doubted that it was, or if it had been that it remained so, Thranduil's son had made grave mistakes in that matter but it seemed unlikely that he would repeat them. Even so the less he knew of Bilbo the better.

But what of the hobbit? When they had parted it had seemed that Bilbo had been looking forward only to his own chair by his own fire and a return to the comfortable ease that been his life before the dwarves had been thrust upon him. It was to be hoped that his satisfaction with home and hearth would remain unchanged by time, or, as Gandalf feared in his darkest moment, by the ring itself. The ring had spent many long centuries in obscurity would it be content to spend yet more, and if not would it manage to prevail upon the hobbit to serve its desire for power? Of all the being in Middle Earth a hobbit was probably the one least likely to be so swayed by its call but when it came to it who could say? There was also the possibility that Bilbo would give the ring away, or that it would be stolen or pass from his stewardship in some other manner as yet unforeseen. Were there others in Shire whose knowledge of the ring might give cause for concern? He did not think so, at least as matters stood now, but it would do well to be on his guard. Gandalf sighed again; he foresaw many other visits to the Shire before the matter was finally settled.

So his thoughts continued to revolve as he made his way down the road.

Halfway through the third day of his journey, when he was less than a day's travel from the river crossing and the path across the marshes, the weather changed. Until this point the days had continued to be fair and bright and though the sun was not warm nor had the wind been cold and it had been possible to travel almost until the light faded. But now the spring lost some of its ease as the wind moved direction and clouds gathered on the horizon. Gandalf had drawn he cloak closer around him and quickened his horses pace but other than that he took no account of the changing weather remaining wrapped in his own thoughts.

A sudden splatter of cold rain against his face brought him from his reverie and he looked up to see that the pale blue sky of the early morning was gone and clouds, grey and heavy, were massing above him with more hurrying in from the north even as he looked. With a sigh he pulled his hood up and patted his horse.  
"A little further I think before we take shelter. I would make the river if I can. I should not have tarried so long I fear."  
With that he pressed his heel against the horse's side to hurry their pace.

Yet his hopes were dashed and they had travelled but a few more miles when the clouds started to swallow the light and the wind rose to toss the trees of the forest. Now a cold rain began to fall in earnest, thin slashing drops that nipped at the skin and threatened to become a downpour with little notice. Gandalf scanned the sky to the north and could see no break in the blackening blanket of cloud, a dense mass that continued to roll their way. He cursed, heavy rain would make the marshes harder to travel, yet he knew that there was little else to be expected so early in spring and his fortune in the matter of the weather so far had been better than he had right to hope for. As the drops became a curtain he turned his horse's head away from the road and into the forest again, winding their way through the thinner trees until they reached a point where the wind and rain were lighter, there he made camp beneath the spreading branches of a holly tree. He made haste to start the fire before the wood around him grew too wet to burn and settled his horse in the lee of some bushes already clothed in leaves, covering saddle and bridle with the dried fronds of last year's fern.

It was soon clear that the rain would continue into night and with reluctance Gandalf rose to move his horse to a more sheltered position within reach of a grazing space then he took out his pipe and settled himself to rest until the dawn. The fire survived the damp and he had collected a good stock of dry wood and when he was satisfied that it would not fail he reached into his saddle bag for a small wrapped parcel that would be his repast. The king's kitchens had been generous with their supply of provisions and if not the fare he might have shared in the Kings halls it was a feast to a traveller in spring. This simple meal was quickly prepared and he settled himself close to the flame and away from the direction of the smoke, he ate slowly warming his hands upon the bowl as he stared into the fire. With luck he would still be in Dale within the week and well before the spring fair, his business there should not take long, though a little longer than he had originally planned, and then he would set off for the Lonely Mountain and a conference with Dain.

Dain, whom he had always considered less reasonable than Thorin, might yet prove a problem, though the stories he had heard since the battle on the mountain spoke of him as a good king and neighbour. His assessment of Thorin had been somewhat lacking and so perhaps he should consider that he might have erred in the matter of his cousin and that Dain might prove the more reasonable. He hoped so. Gandalf smiled into the fire with satisfaction; certainly he seemed to have resisted any gold fever remaining in the mountain and had gained a reputation of dealing fairly with his neighbours. But then with his kin buried beneath him perhaps that was easier to do. Thorin now, well if what Bilbo had says was simple truth, as he thought it was, he had succumbed to the lust for gold far more quickly and more seriously than the plan had allowed for. More than that, for Bilbo spoke of changes in the dwarf that gold alone would not explain, but then given Thranduil's information that too was perhaps not surprising. His smile became a frown, the insidious effect of that dammed map and the discovery that his fears were the truth might explain much that needed to be explained.

Not for the first time since that disastrous day in Dale the wizard wished he had been less eager to hand the map to Thorin, less precipitate in his actions. He should have taken more time to understand Thorin given where he was sending him, and he should have taken more time to wonder about the story told by the map. But there was also the nature of the dwarf himself to be considered and there had never heard any report that would have made him suspect that matters would go so badly wrong with him. It was true that Thorin had always been a self important dwarf, that had been obvious to all who met him, and much given to long speeches and grudges, but there had been nothing in his actions up to the time that they had gone their separate ways at the entrances to Mirkwood that gave warning of how rapidly and completely he would fall to the madness. That Thorin had all the pride of the house of Durin had also been obvious, the wizard clicked his tongue in annoyance; he should have given more thought to that too! Perhaps it had not been wise to be as open with him about his father's fate and the story of the map as he had been. For dwarves were brooding creatures and prone to covetous behaviours. Thranduil now, well he was a king with the pride that went with that, even in a great king, but his pride was rooted in his people and his land and it would never lead him into madness or unreasonable action. His pride also required that he dealt fairly and generously with others, not to do so he would see as being beneath him and a disgrace to his people. No Thranduil would drive a hard bargain in defence of his Realm's interests but his conduct would always be honourable and fair. He would not forsake those with real claim upon him, as he had shown with Dale and the men of the lake. Thorin's pride seemed to have led him down a much darker and twisted path.

Gandalf frowned as he puffed harder on his pipe; the simple truth was that Thorin's actions towards Bilbo, and the men of Dale too, had shocked him; more than shocked if he admitted it. Bard too had been angry and aggrieved at the way in which the dwarf had responded to what had seemed a fair claim and with just cause. Only Thranduil had not been surprised by Thorin's conduct, but, given later disclosures, that was perhaps not so surprising.

Of course it was those disclosures that made the matter with Dain more complicated, as did this banished elf, for Dain was fiercely proud of his line and jealous of their honour and so his anger at her would be long and bitter. Another reason for him to speak with her, and take her measure, as soon as he could. For if there was darkness in her heart then there was much further mischief she might do.

None of this was helped by his own behaviour before the mountain of course. That a lord of dwarves had behaved like a market place bully, resorted to childish taunts and name calling, was no a memory Dain would cherish, and each time he saw the Elvenking he would remember how he had lowered himself in those exchanges and that memory would eat at him and drive him to prove that he did not care. But the memory of that discussion after the battle might cause him to hold his hand against any given Thranduil's protection however much it irked him.

The wizard pushed his hand into the pocket in his cloak as if to reassure himself the letters were still there, one to Bard and one to the elven garrison commander just as Thranduil had promised. .Bard would no doubt assist him in that matter for his friendship with Thranduil, if it could be called that given the differences between them, had remained strong in the years since the battle. The Elvenking had been unstinting in his help the men of the Lake and the City in their time of need, a kindness that went far beyond any recompense he had requested or expected, and that had earned him much respect and regard amongst the people of those two settlements.

The wizard nodded to himself, yes he had no doubt that Bard would be willing to guard or foster Thranduils' interests.

With that thought he rose and checked the welfare of his borrowed horse before he pulled a blanket from his saddle roll and returned to the fire. Wrapping the blanket loosely around him and making sure his staff was close to hand he settled down to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

The Road to Dale – Across the river

For another miserable day the wizard travelled the land towards the river. The rain having once begun was loath to stop it seemed, and rivulets of water ran down the gully beside the road and pooled in each hole and crack within it. A fair number of droplets found their way into the wizard's beard and beneath his cloak too and he cursed the steel grey clouds that seemed to follow him as he rode on.

When last he had travelled this road the battle was but a few days in the past and the wind had been icy but dry, he wasn't quite sure which of the two he preferred.

As he rode, chin sunk into his chest, allowing his horse to pick its own way through the ruts and holes, he recalled those days returning with Thranduil's host towards the forest. grieving as all had been then. but still unaware of the pain the king had hidden so well. The company had been subdued and the songs that they marched to, or whispered as they huddled by the fire, were of regret and loss, and the King seemed no more or less grieving than his soldiers. Thranduil had not tried to hide his grief for the fallen of his kin and his eyes had been sorrowful but the wizard had detected no hint of any special sorrow related to his son, whatever he felt on the matter of Legolas had been buried somewhere so deeply and so well that not even a wizard had been able to see it. He had noticed that prince did not return with them and commented on it but Thranduil had waved the question away saying only that Legolas was about other business, and the truth was that he had thought no more of the matter. Then the Lonely Mountain had been behind them and the Elvenking had not seemed disposed to talk of the battle or the discussions that had followed hard upon it. He reflected, and not for the first time, on Thranduil's ability to appear calm and distant when trouble struck, a very useful attribute in a king. But that didn't mean that the wounds were not there, and not just those inflicted by Legolas and his faithless friend.

For a moment he halted pushing his hood slightly back to allow him a better view as he stared around, in the distance he could see the shadow of the mountain, a grey haze through the rain. What had been behind him now lay ahead of him and it was the same wounds that he had set himself the task to heal, well at much as they could be healed. A dwarf could be … difficult after all.

His own last journey in this direction before the battle he preferred not to recall and with a sigh he urged his horse onwards once again.

At midday he halted to allow both himself and his horse some rest, the forest was now too far behind to allow him to seek shelter beneath its branches and so he huddled in the lee of a large bush and pulled his cloak tighter about him, though the water was already penetrating it and his hat brim dripped a steady stream of cold rain into his lap. Having tethered his horse where it could graze at will on the short coarse grass he riffled through his cloak pockets and pulled out a small package wrapped in waxed paper containing a slice of waybread that would serve to break his fast, from another pocket he retrieved a small flask of cordial that might provide him with some protection against the growing cold and damp. As he nibbled at the bread he thought about the journey that remained. He was now well into the open land between the forest and the river and as long as the weather didn't worsen he should make make the settlement beside the river crossing before dusk. If he recalled it correctly there was an inn of sorts there with a fire and ale to comfort him, he would spend the dark hours getting warm and dry before calling the ferry as soon after first light as the day allowed. Once across the river he would take up the straight road towards the mountain, even without the threat of Orc it was a road he preferred to ride with the sun to guide him, Where the old road forked he would leave the straight road towards Erebor and Dain and turn aside and take the track that would bring him into Dale, just as Thranduil had turned his host aside to aid the men of the lake.

He frowned to himself as he tidied up the last scraps of bread from his beard and searched his cloak for his pipe. Though close on eight years had passed since the elven host had passed this way towards the Lonely Mountain little would have changed until he reached the environs of the city and he did not doubt that the journey would be wearing. Thranduil had told him that there had been many floods in those years and each attempt to repair the road was undone by the following winter. When the king travelled to the settlements of men, at it seemed he did more often than the wizard had expected, he went with a retinue of many, though the Elvenking seemed more than able to bear physical hardship without complaint, but however hardy the wanderer the trek would be far more uncomfortable for a single traveller. More than ever he was glad of the horse and the fact that another two days beyond the river would see him to be the outskirts of Dale.

Dale, how many memories the name of it brought back and so few of them good.

Another shower of rain fell from his hat, a drop or two falling into his pipe bowl with a hiss. He stared at the pipe in frustration but when it continued to draw he settled down to finish it before resuming his ride.

Would things have been different had Thranduil ridden the straight road to the mountain as he had first intended? Would turning his back on pity for those blighted by dragon fire have saved any lives? For had he not dallied taking succour to the people of the lake then he would have been at the mountain well before the Orc army arrived. Taken unaware there would have been no time for Thorin to call for Dain's aid and his small company could not have held the mountain against the Elven host. Without warning they would have not repaired the gate and Thranduil's bowmen and spearmen would have swept them away like troublesome flies. Had the elves done so and held the mountain would the battle have been any less disastrous? For disastrous it had nearly been, as he had told Bilbo Baggins.

He sighed, not that it mattered now, Thranduil had taken pity on the survivors of dragon fire and the rest had followed, even unto Thorin's death. Gandalf puffed harder and with a frown, he would always regret those three tombs beneath the mountain, Thorin may have been the designer of his own fate but Kili and Fili had been too young to end in such a way. Their house had paid a high price for the love of gold, just as Thorin's grandfather had brought down sorrow upon all the sons of Durin. But Fil and Kili had followed Thorin by their own choice so perhaps they too had always been so destined.

But without the eagles and Beorn.. ….Well best not to think of that other than to pledge not to make such mistakes again. Bolg was gone like Asog before him but he didn't doubt that in time the army of the dark lord would be rebuilt and this time he and his allies must not be caught unaware.

Which brought hs thoughts back to Dale, and to the mountain, and to Dain now king under that mountain and with a sigh he knocked out his now dying pipe before shaking out his sodden cloak; then he mounted his horse and resumed his journey towards the River.

XXX

Thranduil looked at son with a concern that he did his best to hide, though he was unsure how well he managed to do so. This was the first meal they had taken in their private quarters since the wizard arrived and for most of that meal Legolas had been silent. He had been merry enough whilst Mithrandir had been with them, even the searching questioning the grey wizard had put him to did not dent his good cheer and for much of the time he had seemed to be the elf of Gandalf's previous visits. Only on the last day before their visitor left had any hint of melancholy intruded, a mood that seemed to still have him in its grip. True there was no sign of the brooding self anger that he held him in thrall when first he returned home, and he had eaten and drunk with all the signs of good cheer, yet there was frown between his brows at times as if he was thinking on something that gave him no pleasure. His father had a good idea of what might be the cause of that frown for their visitor had reported his conversations with Legolas before he had departed. But Thranduil had not pursued the matter deciding that he would give his son the chance to ask the inevitable question in his own manner and at a time of his choosing. He had not expected it to be so soon but if his son's mood tonight was a sign it seemed that it might sooner than his father had expected.

In that expectation he was soon proved to be correct.

"What will you do?"

The words seemed to escape Legolas without his intent and his eyes widened as they did staring down at his glass as if seeing some picture there.

Thranduil blinked, for the question had come not only sooner than expected but in a in more direct a manner than he had anticipated. For a moment his heart sank but looking into his son's down turned face he saw no great distress only a weary acknowledgement of an unpalatable truth. It seemed that Legolas was indeed starting to recover himself.  
'Even so it would be wise to go slowly and be sure' his father thought, 'a wrong step now might undo much good and I would not take that step by mistaking his meaning'.

"What will I do about what?" he replied with careful calm helping himself to a sliver of cheese.  
Legolas's mouth tilted in a humourless smile.  
"Tauriel. If our friend finds that darkness is within her what will you do? What can you do?" He drew a deep breath and looked up to meet his father's eyes. "You will not be able to leave her in Dale if that proves to be the case."

It was his father's turn to draw a deep breath and there was a moment of silence before he replied.  
"Proof may be hard to come by in this matter, even for Gandalf the Grey. He is skilled at reading hearts it is true, particularly where evil is concerned, but would his reading be taken as proof?"  
Legolas shifted uneasily in his chair, the first hint of distress appearing.  
"Perhaps not in other times, but now, can there be any choice? If there is any reason to believe that she sided with the dark one then it is unlikely her allegiance there is ended and she must be removed to a place where she can do no further harm."

Thranduil gave his son a long, expressionless, look and when he replied it was slowly and with obvious care.  
"That is true. It would put the men of Dale and the dwarves of the mountain at some risk to leave her there if her allegiance is truly to the shadow. But to bring her back into the forest would place our own at equal if not greater risk, for it would seem given what has gone before that her malice is directed mainly towards her kin. As well as breaching her sentence of banishment and doing that would raise many difficult questions in quarters I would prefer paid no more heed to the matter."

A momentary pain passed through his son's eyes at that but it was gone before he could say anything to reassure. He was silent for a moment longer not wishing to ask the question he knew he must ask however unfair it might seem. Yet there was no choice.

"What would you have me do with her Legolas? I know that she was dear to you as a sister and in later days perhaps as more than that, I know that at times you have thought that my treatment of her when she followed the dwarf was harsh, and I would not wish you to feel that I have brushed your fondness aside again. But I must think of weightier things that matters of the heart, the safety of our people and those we call friends and allies must be my chief concern, for that I swore. But .."

Legolas raised his hand to stem his father's words with a look of sorrow on his face.  
"Please, say no more on that score for I truly understand and I should have known better even then. I ask no pardon or consideration for my foolishness. Our Realm and our people is my sacred trust too both as prince and warrior. To abandon it as I did cannot be excused and should not be. My shame at my actions taught me the wrongness of them and nothing I learned upon the road has altered that. It is something that I must learn to live with and, as Mithrandir said, to find new strength in the lesson."

Thranduil shook his head and reached out a hand to grasp his son's wrist.  
'Legolas we have spoken of this before and I am of the same mind, I would not have you dwell on what was done in good faith however unwise it might have been."

The king sat back in his chair and inspected the contents of the plate on front of him and as he continued, his words seemed measured and his voice calm as if he had given the matter much though, as indeed he had.  
"So in answer to your question if Mithrandir has some lingering doubts about her I shall need to make plans to move her should it become necessary, but if he is sure that there is evil in her I will need to take action quickly. But unless he can find proof I am reluctant to take the most extreme measures."

Legolas nodded though there was a hint of shock in his eyes at hearing the words, expected though they had been..~"Yes, but perhaps if she were held securely somewhere even then the risk could be contained." He said quietly.  
"Perhaps, but where? I cannot send her south for that would move her closer to the fortress, and perhaps increase her scope for further mischief. Her past crimes being what they are I cannot send her to Elrond or any other elven realm. I might send her north to one of the small settlements in the mountains, but how could I ensure that she remained there and under watch? I cannot send her further west towards the shire for other reasons, not the least of which is that Mithrandir would object most vehemently. So I can only hope that there is no proof and that even the suspicion is small."

Legolas saw the flash of pain in his father's eyes as he spoke, though his face was carefully schooled to calm, and knew that this caused more turmoil for him than he would ever show. She had been as a daughter to him and yet Legolas knew he was facing the possibility that he might have to imprison her forever or worse still agree her death. Legolas looked across to his father's crown, sitting in its appointed place beneath the king's banner and prayed silently that the weight of it never fell upon his head.

"But if it comes to the worst?" He heard himself ask.  
"Then the worst must be done." His father replied quietly. "There are few precedents for such cases but they do exist and they will be followed. It shall be done as Lore decrees and as law allows. Perhaps if the shadow does not return some mercy may be shown, but if the darkness rises again

His words tailed off but Legolas knew their direction. If Sauron rose again then no servant of his, however humble, could be ignored. He felt a chill invade his blood and a sense of pressure settled around his heart. He looked at his father and saw that his sire's eyes were wide and dark and that his jaw was set, there could be no doubting that Tauriel's actions were a source of ongoing pain to the one she acted against. The currents and eddies that she had stirred then continued to eddy around them still. Legolas suppressed a sigh and sent up a silent prayer that she would stand the tests and that the worries of the moment would pass with Mithrandir's letter.

XXX

The land down to the river was flat but marshy and at this time of year it was crossed with many rivulets and streams bringing waters from the mountains and the high hills of Kirkwood towards the river and the lake. Where they had overflowed even the firm land was slick with mud and dotted with pools where ever the water could gather, at the moment these puddles, though some were large enough to demand a grander name, showed grey and their surcae was rippled by the drifting rain. As far as the eye could see the land was bright green even in the dull light and broken by patches of coarse and reed like grass that was sharp enough to cut when whipped by the northern winds. Gandalf gave them a wide berth knowing their capacity to tear at cloak and flesh alike.

He looked around him, little had changed these last years, though he thought the road slightly better repaired than when last he crossed it. In summer there would be flowers and tall waving heads of coloured grass in many places but now, still early in the spring, it looked like a flat green sward, an appearance that could be death of those seduced in carelessness by it and tempted to depart from the curving road and strike a straight path towards the lake,That road had been built on a slight rise where the ground was firm but the heavy rains of winter had nibbled at its edges and showered the pitted surface with scree of small stones, even on horse back it was slow going for he could not move at more than walking pace without the risk of his horse stumbling. Soon parties of elves would come out from the wood to repair the road for the traffic between the wood and the settlements of men was more frequent than in the days of the dragon and not all could travel by river given its uncertain temper.

For several hours he rode on picking his way towards the point at which the marshes were all behind him and the road became a straight path to the river. For all this time he travelled alone seeing no other traveller, nor any other person at all, and the only sound was that of the wind and the birds that cruised high above him. Yet the land was not deserted even so early in the year and as he rounded the last true bend in the road he came in sight of the settlement he sought.

Even at this distance it had an elven look, the buildings of wood, strong and elegant, somehow fitting into the landscape they occupied, the roofs were of some form of slate that echoed back the pale colour of the spring sky. Trees were planted at strategic points around the perimeter to shield the houses from the gust of the wind and the whole village was ringed by fenced in patches of grassland where cows and horses grazed. Beside the village were several large barns from which the sound of sheep could be heard. In summer this permanent settlement would be joined by many summer dwellings and the sheep would run free on the land between the forest and the river providing wool for weaving, the cloth going back into the forest to be dyed and fashioned in garments, blankets or hangings. But most of the elves that made up the summer populations had not yet left the shadows of Mirkwood and for the moment only the permanent houses would be occupied, and probably only by the shepherds and cowherds. They would only return to the forest of their king for festivals or in time of great hardship. These were the lands that provided the butter and cheese on which the wizard had feasted in his time within the Kings Halls.

Off to the right he saw the sign of a homely hostelry, an inn would be too grand a term to describe it, but the bush growing beside the door told him that here a traveller would find a seat beside the fire, some soup and bread and recently brewed ale. At this time of year he would be lucky to find more than that but there might be some cheese, and maybe even a dish of nuts still left from autumn if he were lucky. With a sigh of relief he turned his horse's head in that direction in the hope of finding a little comfort and rest to pass the hours of darkness.

A figure appeared at the door before his horse was more than a few steps closer and he raised his hand in greeting.  
"Good day to you." He called out as he drew nearer, "though day will soon be fled and I would find some rest for myself and my horse for the coming night."  
He saw the women at the door look closely at his horse and then take a step forward into the dying light of the afternoon. She was an elf, her hair long and dark, with large eyes and a slender neck. Her clothes were of Woodland green and brown and her skirts were kilted above her knees to show boots of soft looking leather.  
"Well met stranger," she responded. her soft voice carried easily across the rising wind. She came further from the doorway and set her hand upon the horses bridle as it drew level with her.  
"This horse would seem to be of elven stock have you come from the forest?"  
"That I have my lady. I am on my way to Dale on business for King Thranduil. I seek to cross the river at first light, will that be possible?"

She dipped her head her manner changing slightly at the mention of the king's name, what little caution she had shown melting like night before the day. She smiled shyly. and Gandalf did not doubt that somewhere not far away bows were being lowered and set aside.

"The river is mischevous at this time of year and cannot be spoken for with certainty, but it should be possible for the ferry to cross in safety unless there is a storm. But come in," she waived a hand and a small figure emerged from the shadows to take his rein. "Your horse will be well tended to, all honest travellers are welcome here and you are thrice so since you come from the king. We returned here after the midwinter feast for there is much to be watched over in the stormy days, and I would be glad of news of how things go within the wood."  
"News I shall be glad to provide." The wizard said with a smile as he slid from the saddle and handed charge of the horse to the waiting child.

Not much more than an hour later he was settled beside a bright fire with a cup of ale and a dish of roasted nuts. The innkeeper was talking softly to him whilst laying more wood on the fire for the night had rolled in on a chilly wind.

"The king passed by more than three moons ago on his tour of review. They camped outside the village but the king came in to speak to all who were dwelling here, and he sat in that same chair drinking the same ale as is in your pot," his hostess told him. "He inspected the river crossing and told us that all repairs would be made once the flood waters have passed, and that the lookout on the further bank will be maintained even though the dragon is gone. What he thinks to look for I do not know, but then kings' have concerns such as I do not consider."  
Gandalf nodded in silence though he knew every well what Thranduil would keep watch for. But there would be time enough for folk here to know of that should the darkness rise again, for the moment he, like the king, would not mar their days with a worry that might yet prove to be unfounded. So he just smiled and took another long swallow of ale.

"The king looked well and happy enough." She went on, her attention still apparently fixed on the fire. "There has been a sorrow about him since the battle at that cursed mountain, though he has always done his best to be cheerful when amongst his kin. She straightened and stared into the shadows with a faint smile. "But then our king can be hard to read. The Sindar are less open than the Sylvans even after all these centuries."

She turned quickly and gave him a sharp look.  
"It was for the Prince I suppose, going off in such a sudden manner for all they say it was on his father's business. More to it than that I've heard but least said on that the better."  
She smiled again and smoothed her apron  
"Still he is returned now for I saw him at the midwinter feast and so his father's anxiety must be lessened. Whatever he has been about must have been important and difficult for he seemed less merry than he used to be, as if some care hung about him. But then he will have lost many friends in that battle so perhaps that is reason enough."  
She waited a moment as if expecting the wizard to comment and when he didn't she reached for the now empty nut dish.  
"Now, there are still oat cakes in the oven and last summers honey if you care for it, and perhaps another pot of spiced ale?"

He smiled and nodded and she strode away leaving Gandalf to wonder at the ability of elves to knit together a story.

His hostess woke him before the dawn was more than a faint lessening of the shades of night, placing a pot of warm spiced milk before him and a small basket of new baked bread. The smell of it stirred his hunger and he struggled to banish the last vestiges of sleep as she spoke.  
"Your horse is well rested my lord and has been fed. I'll see it saddled and brought to the door when you have broken your fast. "  
Then she disappeared into the shadows leaving him to throw off his cloak and lower his feet to the floor stretching and reaching for the bread. The door was already ajar and he could see that the coming day seemed drier than the ones before but the chill on the air despite the fire warned him that the spring had turned colder again and that the road across the plains to Dale might be an uncomfortable ride. With a sigh he he fumbled in his cloak for his pipe before remembering he had burned the last of his pipeweed before settling to sleep. With a sigh he turned his attention to breakfast.

XXX

As she had said the river was unpredicatble, and though it could be crossed by ferry it was spiteful, sending up small showers of water and unexpected heaves to make the crossing, short though it was, unpleasant. The ferry man, one of the raft elves not yet returned to running goods down the river to Laketown, took it all in his stride, his long pulls on the tether regular and easy. As they crossed he chatted about the river and the state of the roads and the increase in trade now that the dragon was gone. Yet the latter was tinged with regret for he had lost kin in the battle before the mountain. Gandalf said nothing more than his sorrow at the ferryman's loss but he wondered if he would ever be able to travel this road again without being haunted by the outcome of his actions. For whilst he knew the true fault lay with Sauron he also knew that he would wonder if there had been another way until the day he left Arda.

Turning his back on the river he began the ride down the straight road that led to the branch towards Dale, he could see the mountain to his right in the distance and he wondered if the new of his impeding visit had yet reached Dain. He smiled grimly to himself as he thought of it, there was no need to guess at what the dwarf king would think of that visit for he knew very well the regrets and embarrassment the memory of the their last meeting would stir. But there was nothing that could be done about that even though the wizard knew it would make his errand more difficult.

Another two days ride, and a night spent huddled in a ditch, brought him to the point at which the track towards Dale and the lake branched off from the road towards Erebor. It was less of track now than it had been the day Thranduil turned his host aside from his straight march to the mountain, but not much less. One day perhaps this would truly be a road but for the moment a track it remained, though wide and flat. Here he stopped on a shallow rise and smoked a pipe, staring at the shadow of the City emerging from the old ruins to his right. To his left the lake shore was deserted and a pall of cloud hung over the waters making it hard to see the new settlement growing up there. Already the memory of the dragon was fading from the minds of men, only kept from being story by the evidence of its bones still lying in the shallows. Unlike the elves the men of city and lake would soon forget, memory fading with those who had fought the battle, becoming history and like all history to be ignored or twisted to suit the times.

Gandalf sighed and put out his pipe preparing to mount his horse and complete the last leg of the journey. But his thoughts were uncomfortable, for they brought the realisation that if Sauron was not defeated before the elves and their remembering left middle earth then he probably never would be.


	23. Chapter 23

Messengers

Thranduil was sitting in audience when the messenger arrived.

It had been a session like any other up to that point, a line of his people, and a fair sprinkling of the woodsmen who dwelt in his lands, seeking his agreement or judgement upon some aspect of their lives. Mundane enough matters that they or the law considered required, of for which they wanted, the king's response. It might almost be considered tedious if he hadn't accepted it as a part of his life long ago. The duty was made less onerous for the present by the fact that sailings were no longer a regular occurrence, for in the first years after the battle at the lonely mountain he had arranged nearly as many sailings as he had attended funeral rites. He tried not to dwell on his fear that such times would return and concentrated instead on the more trivial matters that, for the moment, found their way before him.

But as ever, as the last of those seeking his judgment bowed and turned away, he wondered fleetingly how long the respite could last and when he would next be arranging passage for some grief stricken elf that could no longer bear the world without the one they had lost. He hoped it would not be soon.

He watched the final supplicants retreating figures with a faint sigh, for their departure was not the end of his duty and he prepared to rise and wend his way to the Council chamber for the next task. But he had not done more than straighten in his throne and push his long robe from his feet before his equerry hurried across the hall of audience, a worried frown between his brows. The king remained seated and watched him advance with a sudden sense of unease.

The approaching elf bent his head briefly in salute to his king before hurrying into speech.  
"My Lord, excuse the intrusion but there is a messenger here from Imladris who brings a letter from Lord Elrond. He would deliver it in person and without delay if you will receive him."  
Thranduil felt a jolt of surprise swiftly followed by a shiver of alarm, for this was not expected. Careful to hide both from his equerry he sat back in his seat meeting the other's anxious eyes with impassive calm.  
"So early in the year, spring must have come quickly to the mountains if the pass is open again." He said easily, "Let the messenger come now."  
"My Lord." The elf before him inclined his head once more then turned and hurried from the hall.

Thranduil stared into the shadows as he waited, no obvious cause for alarmed yet…., letters from Elrond were few but they exchanged several a year. Generally on topics that both sender and recipient considered necessary but unimportant, for the road between the two elven Realms was long and fraught with danger, too dangerous to trust anything truly important to them. Usually they communicated those more important things in other ways, unless the subject required more words than their other messengers could convey, and particularly during the winter months when few could make it across the icy mountains regardless of Orc or similar dangers. If such letters had to pass between them then the messengers would come heavily guarded, at least to the edge of the Forest, and he would have known of that approach long before they reached the elven road. That he had heard nothing in advance to announce its' arrival probably meant that the letter was innocuous, yet if that was so why send it now when the mountain road would still be unpredictable? Or was the subject so sensitive that Elrond would risk losing it rather than draw attention to its passage?

He got no further in his musing before his equerry returned accompanied by a dark haired elf in the colours of Imladris and wearing the crest of Elrond the Halfelven upon his chest.  
"The messenger from Lord Elrond Sire," his equerry announced with more formality that was usual between them, before stepping back and leaving the Noldor elf standing alone before the king.

Thranduil rose gracefully to greet the messenger, staring down with a calm expression for a moment before inclining his head slightly as he spoke.  
"Welcome, I trust your journey was uneventful and that you left all those in your lands in good health and heart.  
The elf before him bowed as he replied."My journey was without incident Sire and I left all behind me as you would wish them."  
"Good news then," Thranduil replied easily, then he let a slightly sharper note enter his voice, "but it makes me wonder what tidings you bring that required you risk the mountains before spring is assured?"  
The other elf looked up quickly.  
"Nothing ill that I know of Sire and I think myself to be well trusted, I have a letter for you as I have reported and it is longer than could be sent by other means."

With that he pushed his cloak aside and reached into his tunic bringing out a small but fat packet of parchment. He held it out before him.  
"I cannot say why my Lord wished it sent now; I know only that he wanted you to receive it as soon as could be managed. The spring snows were light this year, at least around the pass, and no Orc or troll has been seen in the mountains since your battle before Erebor. It was perhaps much less a risk than it would once have been the case."  
His voice tailed away as if he suddenly recalled what the loss of Orc and troll he spoke of had meant for this king and his people. He dropped his eyes again and remained silent.

Thranduil saw his sudden stricken look and understood what had passed through the messengers mind, but he gave no sign of it. Instead he looked at the proffered packet with tilted head, for it was obviously many sheets and well sealed with Elrond's crest set deep in red wax.  
"Indeed." He said eventually. "What of the return? For given the circumstances of your journey I assume one is expected."  
The messenger bowed again as he replied.  
"Ay Sire, my Lord requested that I wait for your reply if that was agreeable to you."

Thranduil looked at the bowed head for a moment in silence, knowing that there were those amongst his people who had no love of the Noldar, even those who served Elrond, but there was little that he could do about that. After a moment he nodded.  
"Very well it shall be so. Take time to recover from the journey, you are welcome and shall be provided with all that you need." He looked towards his equerry, "Find Lord Elrond's messenger quarters Landaf, and ensure his needs are taken care of for I expect he has travelled light. His horse too, of course."  
With that he sauntered down to the dais and took the offered letter from the silent messenger's hand.

The other elf looked up as he felt the paper pulled from his fingers and smiled slightly, but the smile faded before a slight sense of shock as he met the king's eyes and felt the power of his light. He dropped his gaze and bowed again, not least to ensure that the King of Mirkwood did not see the curiosity in his eyes, for he was born of the third age and found the elf lords of the earlier ages of great interest. Particularly this one who was the last Elvenking so named in Arda, a warrior elf lord who had stood before Mordor's gates and yet whose light was as strong and bright as one who had known far less sorrow and grief. He kept his eyes lowered for that was the only way to resist an urge to stare, and not only at the sight of a crown upon an elf's head, or the coat of finely wrought mithril mail the king wore beneath his robe even here within his own fortress, mail so intricate and fine that he had taken it for brocade until the king came close, but at its golden haired wearer. For the Elvenking was taller than any elf he knew and fair even for their kind, more than that he had a regal bearing and presence than was greater, more impressive, than that of his own lord, and he had not thought that to be possible. He could not imagine this king being merry any more than he could imagine Elrond being so.

The messenger let his hand drop and risked looking up again to discover that the king of Mirkwood was regarding him with a slight smile, and he had the sudden uncomfortable feeling that all his thoughts were known. He found himself swallowing hard as Thranduil's eyes, startling in their intensity, continued to look down at him for a moment, then the king blinked once and turned away. He spoke in an absent tone, his mind already somewhere else.  
"Rest if you need to and clothes and clean linen will be given to you. Ask for whatever refreshment you desire. I shall not reply this day, and perhaps not tomorrow."  
With that he dismissed the other elves with a motion of his hand.

The messenger bowed again as the king turned in a swirl of robe and mithril stitched coat before ascending back up to his throne his eyes fixed upon the letter in his hand.

With another bow the equerry led the messenger away.

Thranduil sank back down weighing the letter in his hand with a slight frown, but he made no move to break the seal. After a moment he rose suddenly again and stepped quickly down to the dais, then turned towards the pathway that led to his quarters.  
"Send a message to the Council," he said as he drew level with the guards. "Inform them that today's session is cancelled and we will meet tomorrow."

With that he strode away with one guard at his heels as the other set off to do his bidding.

XXX

Dale had an unfinished look to it but an air of bustle and prosperity for all that. Everywhere masons were at work repairing the buildings and arches that still showed much damage, but the walls were now whole again and the gates were strong. Those gates were open but well guarded and he was stopped by a man at arms as he left the bridge and drew level with the walls.

"Greetings traveller," the man said calmly but with his hand on his sword belt, "for I assume that is what you are as you have no goods to sell."  
"Greetings to you too good sir," Gandalf replied cheerfully, "traveller that I am, though perhaps messenger better describes me."  
The man looked him over carefully but without hostility.  
"Messenger to whom and from whom may I ask?"  
"Of course you may for is that not your duty? It is has been some years since I was last here and I would not expect you to recall me given the dire nature of those times."

Now the man frowned.  
"Dire times? You speak of the battle I assume, were you here then?"  
"Aye I was, and like many wished the matter could have been otherwise. It is good to see that Dale rises anew." He stood aside as a cart rolled out from the city gates and towards the bridge, "and that trade is returning."  
The guard nodded and smiled.  
"True it is. Much has been achieved, more than some thought possible and the people of this town have much to thank the Valar for."  
Gandalf nodded gravely and his voice was sober as he replied.  
"It is so, but they have also to thank the king under the mountain and the king of the wood."

The other shrugged carelessly.  
"Perhaps, but it was the dwarf Thorin who brought destruction upon us by his greed after all, as did his grandfather before him, why should they not help the men of the lake to rebuild and repay those things that were stolen from us by the dragon they enticed? It is but justice, and give him his due King Dain appears to own it to be so. The king of the wood though, yes we owe him much for he has given a lot for little more than friendship. You will find none here to say differently."  
Gandalf laughed his sombre look vanishing like pipe smoke on the wind.  
"I am glad to hear that for it is from him I come. I was on my way to see King Dain but King Thranduil has asked that I turn aside from the straight road to bring a message to Lord Bard. Here is his token as proof of my truth."

With that he brought out the token that Thranduil had given him before he left the forest.

The guard took it and turned it in his fingers for a moment, he sent a sharp glance towards the horse standing patiently at Gandalf's shoulder, and then he handed back the token with a bow and a smile.  
"Welcome then messenger of the Elvenking. I will see you escorted to his house and send word to Lord Bard that you are here. It is early yet and I doubt he will see you before the noon time meal. But you will find refreshment there for yourself and you mount whilst you wait."

"Thank you, King Thranduil has granted me lodging at his house and there are many there with whom I am acquainted, waiting will be no hardship."  
At that that the guard beckoned forward a waiting boy, he laid a hand firmly upon the boy's shoulder.  
"Take this messenger to KingThranduil's guards at his house." he instructed. "Then go forth to Lord Bard's house and inform him that a messenger from the Elvenking is here to speak with him."  
"Lord Bard will know my name boy," Gandalf added. "Tell him the messenger is Gandalf the Grey who stood against the Orcs with him when Bolg attacked the city. He will remember me."

The boy looked at him wide eyed and the guard saw it and sighed.  
"Quick now and no begging for tales of battles past to brag of with your friends. I will know if you delay."  
The boy nodded and bowed for Gandalf to follow him as he led the way into the thronged streets of Dale.

XXX

Legolas sent the last arrow thudding into the target with a sigh of satisfaction, he had done all he had set himself for the day and now it seemed he was free to do as he pleased. A runner had come from the Council some time earlier to inform him that there was to be no session this day by order of his father, which left him no official responsibilities and his allotted practice for the day completed. There was still several hours of light remaining and more than that before supper and he was at leisure to spend them as he wished.

Once, in the days before the dwarf, he and Tauriel would have spent such times with comrades from the guard playing harp and lute and composing songs to amuse themselves, or reading in the quiet of the library, but such days were past. Now she was in Dale and he was still avoiding those places and activities that most reminded him of those days. Not that the pain of his memory of her was sharp now, but the realisation of how she had changed him in the eyes of others remained a source of some distress, and he found it more comfortable not to stir his wondering of how others had truly seen him then.

With a shake of his head he pushed the thought away, gathered up his bows and set to work collecting his spent arrows. That chore completed he returned to his rooms and changed his clothes for garments more suited to a forest foray. Not half an hour after he collected the last of his arrows he was leaving the palace behind him and making his way across the bridge and towards the elven path that led to the forest gate.

He did not take the path however and at a point where the river bent towards the north he crossed it and entered into those glades that the spiders had never ventured near, glades kept clean by his father's power rather than by bow and knife. He strode on heading always to towards the east where the forest gave way to the marshes that stretched towards the river and the broken lands to the north. Where he was going he did not know, but he was restless for some reason he could not say. He did not go far however for driven by a sudden impulse to see above the trees he climbed a towering beech and sat for a while staring out towards the Lonely Mountain, a grey shadow in the far distance, but as he descended he caught sight of his father's horse in a glade towards the Halls. Legolas knew which glade it would be and with a sudden sense of unease he hurried down and across the wood.

XXX

The journey through Dale was a slow one for the between the building and the tradesmen and the markets the streets were as congested and difficult to negotiate as a mountain pass after a rock fall. But the boy knew his way and led the wizard surely and without hesitation through the outer districts and towards the centre of the town. They passed the old great hall, where the sick and injured had sought protection during the battle, and Gandalf halted for a moment of quiet satisfaction for now the ruin of that time had been restored the civic glory of the high days of Dale. Bard had done well.

Though men made up most of the crowds Gandalf caught sight of a dwarf here and there, sometimes working on a building, sometimes behind a market stall, sometimes just sauntering down one of the quieter streets that ran out from the main thoroughfares.  
"Have many dwarfs returned to the mountain?" he asked the boy.  
"Aye sir, I think so. Certainly many more have been seen these past year or two. Rarely is there a market without one or two dwarf stalls and several have businesses and shops in the wealthier parts of the City."  
"Does the King under the Mountain visit often?"  
"I couldn't say sir, I've only known of him to visit but once, though they say that he is coming again this summer for the fair and the setting of the battle stone. But there may be times he has come to see Lord Bard and none have known of it."  
"Does he have a house here as the Elvenking does?"  
"No sir, not as such. But the mountain is closer than the forest and its but two days travel from the mountain to the city."  
"I suppose that's true, though dwarfs don't much care for riding. And it's longer on foot."  
"No, so I have been told. When he came Dain rode in a coach with his guards on foot. I don't know how long they were on the road but they didn't seem wearied by it."  
he boy turned another corner and brought them into a wide road before a high and imposing building.

"This is the Elvenkings's house sir."

The Elvenking's house in Dale was something more than its name suggested, not quite a palace, nor yet a barracks, but certainly more than a house. Its' high walls separated it from a thoroughfare thronged with people at this time of day but the gates stood open, though well guarded by both bowmen and spear men. As he approached them Gandalf wondered if they were wood or stone for they had the look of both and yet neither. They were topped by intricate trellis in which was set the kings banner and their surface was traced with vines and branches in relief and chased. Impressive it had to be said, most decorative too, and yet Gandalf would wager they were stronger and harder to breech than any gates in the city for as he drew level with them he felt the same glow of power that he felt from the gates to Thranduil's Halls. He smiled softly to himself, amongst friends or not the King of the wood took few chances and magic as well as elven skill guarded his house.

The boy took him to the guard closest and looked up the long distance to the elf's face.

"Guard at the gate bid me bring this traveller here my lord, for he comes from your King with a message for our lord who has yet to be located and told of his arrival. He seeks rest and refreshment in the time until he can fulfil his task."  
With that the boy bowed and stood back.  
Gandalf smiled at him and nodded his thanks, though he doubted the elven guard was unaware of who he was or why he was here for he was sure that Thranduil would have sent word ahead to his people. Nor did the guard seem surprised at all, but he inclined his head politely to the boy, his helm hiding the faint smile at the boy's careful dignity. He replied in the language of men, his voice soft and respectful.  
"I thank you young sir for so helpful an introduction, I will take him in charge and you may return to your own duties."  
The boy nodded and gave a small bow.  
"Thank you that I will." With another small bow in Gandalf's direction he turned around and disappeared in to the crowd."

Gandalf smiled at his retreat.  
"A fine lad and one who will rise to great things I think, he reminds me of Bard's son at that age. I am glad to see that Dale recovers from the days of Dragon and Orc."  
The elven guard nodded. But his voice was sad when he replied.  
"Indeed it is so, yet I think trouble is still waiting. Peace may hold for all his lifetime," he inclined his head in the direction the boy had gone," but the battle with the darkness is not yet over."  
"You are of your kings mind then?" Gandalf said quietly.  
"Indeed I am my lord, for I too recall the battle before the Black Gates, it should have been ended then but it was not so by the greed of men. Sauron will bide his time and then bend that greed to his purposes again."

He stepped back and indicated that Gandalf should follow him, the other guards saluted the visitor as they passed and entered into the courtyard before the high frontage of the main house.

"But that is for the future and hopefully one far distant. Welcome to the king's house Mithrandir, we have been expecting you and all is ready to meet your needs. The horse will be taken to the stables and you may rest as you will before the message from Bard arrives"  
Gandalf sighed.  
"Well I'll not deny that hot food and quiet place to smoke a pipe would be most welcome. The journey has been long and cold and the road more difficult than I recalled it to be. Other than that my needs are few, a seat by the fire later perhaps, and a cup of ale."  
The guard nodded and threw open the tall front doors.  
"All of which we will happily provide for you, and perhaps a little music and song to while away the dark hours beside that fire."  
Gandalf smiled as he followed him inside  
"Nothing more could a weary old traveller ask for."

XXX

Thranduil was sitting cross legged in silent contemplation before the shrine to The One, something that Legolas knew he did often when duty allowed it. His head was bowed and he made no movement to indicate that he had heard his sons' approach.

Dipping his head to the shrine Legolas sat down on the seat at the perimeter of the glade and waited in peaceful silence. Eventually his father raised his head and looked towards him.  
"Legolas, I did not expect to see you here. Why are you not enjoying your unlooked for leisure?"  
"Perhaps because it is unlooked for." his son said with a smile." I heard that a messenger from Elrond had arrived, an unusual event, and when I received the message about the council meeting I was curious as to what had called you away and if the two events were connected in any way. Even so I have not sought you out by intent, I came into the wood to walk and refresh myself but when I saw your horse and knew you were here and I confess my curiosity got the better of me. It there any reason for concern?"

His father sighed and rose to his feet crossing the glade to sit beside his son.  
"Concern? Of that I am not sure. It may be an indication of things to come and yet that may not be the case, until Elrond comes I cannot be sure.  
"Comes? Lord Elrond is to come here?" Legolas exclaimed. "But why? He has not done so in all the days of our battles with the shadow, why should he choose to visit now?"  
Thranduil sighed again.  
"There were no doubt reasons why he was of little help in the dark days, though there have been times when even though I guessed at those reasons I found it hard to forgive. But for the moment he feels he may take the risks involved, that there is a small window of time in which he feels able to leave the valley. Yet he does not believe it will be long before the darkness rises again, just as I do, and he will need to be at Imladris when that dread time is on us. For the moment he believes there are things that must be done in this time of quiet and so he sets certain matters in train."  
"And we are a part of that? How so? He mentioned nothing of this to me when I visited him."  
"No, perhaps not for the time would not have been right. Yet he mentioned it in the letter he sent with you. Now matters move on and he believes that it is time for him to act."  
"Act? What is it that he must do that is so pressing?

Thranduil paused for a moment looking closely into his son's face as if seeking something there, then he looked away towards the ground.  
"When you visited Imladris he introduced you to the boy did he not?"  
Legolas frowned.  
"His ward, a stripling of some fifteen summers? Yes he introduced us. A pleasant enough lad, dark haired and eyed with a shy, yet open, smile as I recall it. We talk a little of his studies and training and something of music I think, but I confess I paid him no more attention than courtesy required.  
His father shrugged but did not look up.  
"Why would you knowing little of him as you did?" His voice lost what little expression it had held. "But that youth has some destiny so Elrond believes and that is what brings him here for he would have me meet him before he returns to his people in the north."  
"His people? From which line does he spring? I cannot believe that Elrond would take a shepherd's son as his ward, kindly though he is."  
That brought a faint smile to his father's face.  
"Shelter yes, but take into his own house, no I would agree he would not. But there were circumstances that made it inevitable. The boy is of the Dunedain though he has been raised from his earliest years by Elrond and his family. All he knows is an elven society and elven law but that must change if he is to follow his fate. Or what Elrond thinks his fate may be. Now it is nearly time for the boy to rejoin his father's kin but first Elrond would have him know those whose assistance he may need in the times ahead. I knew the father a little but Elrond would have me know the son on his own account."

Legolas stared at his father in astonishment who remained looking at the floor  
"Need? For what may he need us?  
Thranduil sighed but still did not look up  
"Elrond is unsure. He has the gift of sight but the visions are not always clear and in this matter they are shadowed and indistinct with many branches in the road towards the future. So he tells me. Yet he is sure that somehow the future of the forest and the paths of his ward are intertwined and he comes to make us known to each other before the boy is returned to his father's kin.  
"How soon will that be?  
"He has not specified but I would judge not more than ten or twenty years of men. He will have much to learn from his own people too and he must do it before the shadow returns. Elrond has indicated that he would wish this visit to be followed by others, though he does not commit himself to come on future occasions."

Legolas was silent for a moment wondering why his father spoke so obliquely, why he found talk of this boy so uncomfortable, for it was clear that he did. Yet if there was more to be told he would wait until his father was ready to tell it. But there was one question he felt he could safely ask.  
"Only here?"  
"No from here they will travel to Lothlorien, he asks for us to see him safely through the forest to the south, and then he will return to Imladris by the mountain pass before the autumn storms begin. He knows I must be in Dale for midsummer and so he looks to set out as soon as he receives my agreement."  
"Does he fear you will not agree?"  
"In truth no, but the relations between us have been formal since the last alliance, comrades as we were then. He lived at court in the years of Gil-Galad and knows how my father viewed the Noldor High Kings, and the reasons why, he will take care not to raise the ghosts of old enmity."

Thranduil gave his son a wry look.  
"He is also painfully aware that the last time he visited my Realm was for my crowning and that in all the years of our struggles against the darkness he has offered no help or respite even as he lived in peace and joy; he will be careful to take nothing for granted, nor assume my goodwill until he has been assured of it."  
Legolas smiled.  
"He said something similar to me when I visited; he seemed concerned that there might be some rift between us that he could no longer bridge. Though he said little of the why."  
"Yes he wrote of that also. But though there are old wrong and hurts between us neither would see our people harmed for it, nor the wider world. Though I fear there may little we can do to aid each other when the darkness strikes."

Thranduil looked up at last.  
"Some of the entertainment of Elrond's ward will fall to you; say now if that causes concern."  
"No concern, have no worries on my account. I told him little of my business at the time and he was too young and callow to see anything strange in my arrival or my composure. Facing Elrond again, that I confess I may find a trial in the light of what I discovered later, but it will be done and in the doing another hurdle will be set behind me and I will be brought closer to being myself again."  
His father smiled and replied softly.  
"I am glad, Elrond will say nothing of matters you do not wish discussed, you need have no fear of that.  
"I know." Legolas rose to his feet. "The light will fail soon it is time we returned. Will you reply today?"  
"No, I have no intention of refusing but I would give my reply some thought."

Thranduil watched his son disappear back into the trees then headed slowly back to his horse. He hoped that Legolas found meeting Elrond again as easy as he believed it would be.


	24. Chapter 24

**This chapter was getting way too long tso I have decided to split it.**

 **To the guest reviewers I cant respond to on PM, thanks so much for your comments they mean a lot and Im glad that you enjoy my efforts.P**

 **Meetings 1 - Wizard and a king to be**

Bard was at his noon meal when the message was brought to him, a simple repast but taken with his family where he could manage it. Today was a day when he had managed it and both his daughters and his son, along with his eldest daughter's husband and his son's new wife were at the table.

"Gandalf you say?" He said with a frown at the messenger. "Are you sure it is he for he has not been seen this side of the mountains since the battle?"  
The messenger shrugged.  
"That was the name the boy sent by the gatekeepers gave my lord. A shabby figure, old, but hale and hearty enough despite his white beard.  
Bard swallowed a gulp of ale and smiled.  
"Aye that sounds like the wizard. I recall being concerned that he would not be able to weild a sword when I first saw him, more than seven years ago now, and yet he did well enough and better than many younger. But then he is a wizard's and so is not to be measured by the usual means I suppose."  
He broke more bread from the loaf before him with a thoughtful look. Then he stared with narrowed eyes at the herald.  
"You say he has come from the Elvenking?"  
"So he says my lord."  
"Strange then for I saw King Thranduil at midwinter, I hope no new threat has crawled out of the north."  
The herald shook his head  
"He said nothing of his message and I doubt the gatekeepers would ask if he said that message was for you."  
Bard nodded, he was not yet King of Dale but come midsummer and the striking of the battlestone he would take up the crown of his forefathers, and most in Dale had long since looked upon him as if that crown were already upon his head.  
"Well whatever it is it is clear it cannot wait until midsummer for then Thranduil himself will be amongst us."

He saw the look that flashed between his daughters at that remark and suppressed a sigh; the eldest was now comfortably and most happily wed but he remembered well her time of infatuation with the king of the wood and it was clear she still bore a fondness, if not a fancy, for him. Judging by the look on the younger ones face it seemed that she was now of an age to share her sisters earlier partiality; with the ceremonies fast approaching he could only hope that the Elvenking would take this second adoration in the same calm, gentle and considerate manner as the first. He recalled it so well and with a sense of sinking in his stomach for there had been times when it had been most embarrassing for her father and her brother. Thranduil had been much in Dale at that time, as he would be this summer, yet the elf king had never made mention of it and had treated the girl with an almost fatherly air whilst at the same time managing to avoid making her feel a child or a fool. Indeed he had done it so well and with such grace and apparent ease that Bard wondered how often he been called upon to negotiate such fancies amongst the daughters of men. For himself he had to admit that if his daughters were to be subject to such wild infatuations he could only be glad that they chose to be so with one he could trust without reservation. He had often consoled himself with the thought that such ardent adoration was better directed at an elf, and a king at that, than some wastrel boy of the town with a handsome face and a predatory eye.

He put that matter to one side for later consideration and turned his thoughts back to the message.

"Where did the messenger say he he was lodging? He is more than welcome in my house, for he was at our side when the battle was at its harshest and I would see him treated with all due honour."  
"He is quartered at the house of the Elvenking my lord. It would seem that he does not intend to stay long in the city."  
"Ah, I see, it was to be expected I suppose since he comes from their king. I do not doubt the elves will see to to his comfort, they have known him a long time and respect him well. But I would see him given all honour by the people of Dale too and given a feast if he stays long enough."  
"Very well my lord. When would you meet with him?  
"Ask him if he will come at sundown, and dine with us if he free to and has made no other commitment."  
The herald bowed and left.

"I recall Gandalf," Bard's son said, "a strange fellow. all beard and eyebrows."  
"Aye, strange he was." Bard agreed with a smile. "He spoke of orcs and doom and yet seemed surprised when both came upon us so swiftly. King Thranduil named him as a wizard but his magic was of little use that day. Though he wielded staff and sword as if a much younger man."  
He sighed.  
"I heard afterwards that it was he that set Thorin Oakenshield upon the path to the mountain in the first place and yet he never said why, though I doubt it was for any purpose the dwarf knew. Dain tells me that he travelled some way with that company and yet he seemed taken aback by Oakenshield's actions."  
"Perhaps he had not expected the dwarf to succumb to dragon sickness so quickly and fall so completely to the heat of gold fever." His son in law observed.  
"Perhaps," Bard replied with a considering look. "Perhaps, and yet I think there was more to it than that."

He broke more bread and chewed upon it in deep thought for a while and then he raised his cup of ale towards the company at large with a sombre look upon his face.  
"There was a meeting before Oakenshield's funeral between the three, King Thranduil, Lord Dain and Gandalf, what it was about I cannot say but it seemed more concerned with the past than the future for what little I saw."  
His eyes took on a faraway look as his mind drifted back to the snowy days after the battle and he spoke slowly.  
"I was called at one point in that meeting to speak of the fate of Dale after the dragon took the mountain. Something was amiss that was clear, and not just the recent battle, for the wizard seemed deeply concerned and King Thranduil looked most grave. Lord Dain however seemed much put about, very shocked in fact something I have never seen from him since. The wizard was the one who called me and it seemed to me that he was in some way acting as a mediator between the king who was and the king yet to be."

He smiled, a shadow of some old feeling hovering about his eyes.  
"At the time I was not much surprised at the strain between them for Dain's insults before the mountain had been heard by many, man, dwarf and elf, and it is fair to say that his conduct towards the Elvenking up to that point had not been what I would have expected of a great dwarf lord."  
He gave a sudden crack of laughter.  
"More like a drunken tap room bully if I speak truly. That or the gangs of ill mannered lads you see taunting visiting merchants about their dress or some such thing in the market. Never did I expect to hear such crass words from a dwarf lord."  
He shook his head, and a shrewd look displaced the mirth from his eyes  
"But later I wondered if had just been that for Lord Dain seemed to change afterwards, his swaggeringwas all gone, he was most subdued and avoided King Thranduil as much as he could while they both remained near Dale."  
He sighed, the mantle of his own lordship falling upon him again.  
"As he still does, to some discomfort for those who must walk a line between them."

"But both are coming for the midsummer fair and the striking of the battlestone are they not?" That was Bain's wife.  
He looked towards his young daughter in law with a faint smile  
"That they are, and they will need to be in each others company at least some part of the time. But things move on and now that Dain is himself a king no doubt he will have learned some manners and to moderate his language, at least when others might hear it. Of Thranduil I have no complaint then or now, for though he treats Dain with a little coolness when they meet he is ever kingly and dignified and none hearing him speak to or of the dwarf would think his manner more than usual diplomatic caution. Yet even so it may not be comfortable,"  
A look of sudden understanding lit his eyes.  
"Indeed that might be why the wizard is here and wishes to speak with me, to test the lie of the land in that respect."  
"I wonder that King Thranduil agrees to be in Dain's company at all from what I heard of the matter. If I were he I would not wish to as much as acknowledge him." Sigrid said with a frown.  
Her father shot her a hard look over the rim of his cup.  
"When you sit as high as he does then some things must be done, must be borne even when you would not wish it. As you all will discover when I take the crown of Dale no doubt. Neither the king under the mountain nor the king of the wood will risk a greater rift whilst the future remains so uncertain, whatever their private feelings about the other. However elves have long memories and though King Thranduil will not let it weigh with him in terms of his actions towards Dain, or any dwarf, nor will he forget."  
A suddenly thoughtful look settled on his face as he recalled again the meeting in that winter seven long years ago...  
"Yet if what I suspect is indeed the case then it might be harder still for Dain."

He pushed away his plate and rose to his feet  
"But that is not for now and I have much to do before sundown. Bain, I will see you at the market gate at the third bell of the post noon."  
Ignoring their pleas to sit down again and tell them more of what he meant he turned and left the room.

XXX

Gandalf was sitting smoking a pipe in a small arbour in the quadrangle of the Elvenking's house in Dale when the steward came to tell him that Lord Bard was awaiting him. He rose quickly surprised that Bard had come here rather than wait for him to attend at his house as sundown as his message had said. But the reason was soon explained for once they were alone Bard stepped close and spoke low.  
"I gave the matter more thought and decided I would have us meet here first rather than my hall, for there are many curious eyes and ears there and if it is King Thranduil's business you are about it might include things better not heard by others."

The wizard looked around him and smiled.  
"You think elves less curious my lord? For their hearing is certainly better than that of men."  
Bard smiled and shook his head  
"No, I know more than that. But I trust them to show more wisdom and to guard their lord's business carefully. My kin, though they are learning to be more circumspect, are not yet fully accustomed to being anything other than simple tradesmen; and at times…."  
He let the words tail away with a wry smile.  
Gandalf nodded his understanding.  
"Indeed, your fortunes have gone in ways and reached heights I doubt you expected when you were growing. Your children too."  
Bard nodded.  
"That is true, though I was raised to know my lineage, that I was of the line of Girion, and to do honour to that line however humble my circumstances. I raised my children to do the same."  
"Yet soon you will resume the place and mantle of you forefathers is that not so? For Thranduil tells m  
you will take the crown once the battlestone is struck."  
Bard smiled and inclined his head.  
"That is indeed so. I have held the lordship of Dale since the battle before the mountain but I said I would not take the crown until Dale was once again what my forefathers ruled. Midsummer and the striking of the battlestone will put the days of ruin behind us, and the time of the dragon will pass into history. On the day after that I will be crowned king of Dale and my line will be as it was before."

Gandalf sighed.  
"I regret that I will be unable to witness the event, for it will be joyous I do not doubt, but I must travel west again once my business here is completed and I will be in the far south or over the mountains on that day."  
Bard inclined his head again in acceptance.  
"That is a sadness, for I had hoped that all who were there that day and lived might join in the celebrations. But I know that the world remains under shadow, even though peace reigns for the moment, and that you may have much work still to do before we can consider the threat truly passed."  
The wizard looked at the soon to be king of Dale more closely, noting the changes that nearly eight summers had brought about in him. Though he was still tall and straight there were slivers of silver in his dark hair and deep lines about his eyes. He seemed slightly heavier in build too, no doubt the effects of hours of sitting in council and with trade delegations, coupled with finer food than ever he had known in his life before the day he shot the dragon. Somehow it came as surprise to Gandalf for he had spent much of these last years amongst the elves or in the Shire, and had given little thought to the changes that would have occurred in the mortal men of Dale, or indeed to those he would see in Dain. He spared a moment to wonder if it would be Bard or his son, or even his grandson, who would be faced with resuming the fight against Sauron. For whilst Thranduil knew it would be his lot to take up that fight again, the span of men removed such certainty.

Gandalf hoped it would not fall to Bard, nor even to his son, for the world needed more time than that to make ready, yet he doubted the delay would be such that it would pass beyond three generations of men. But this was not the time for such speculation and so he smiled at Bard and drew his pipe from his cloak.  
"It is a fine day my lord and there is a warm bench in the gardens where I might smoke a pipe as we discuss my business. I will have ale or wine brought as you prefer for Thranduil would wish all hospitality to be shown. Food too, if you are in need of it."  
Bard shook his head.  
"I've not long had the noon meal, and elvish wine and ale, though as good as any I have ever tasted, might slow my wits more than my afternoon's tasks demand. But let us go to this bench of yours for it seems that I spend too much time sitting in stone halls these days and the sun on my face would be welcome."

With that they returned to the bench that Gandalf had just quit.

When the messages of goodwill he had been charged with were delivered and responded to it was Bard who went first to the heart of the matter.  
"So my lord wizard, what is it that brings you here and on King Thranduil's business?"  
Gandalf looked over his pipe with a serious face  
"Well not all is his business, though it is true that he would know how the land lies before Midsummer." He said softly.  
Bard smiled knowingly.  
"Ah, Dain and his dwarfs then? What is it would he know that he does not, for I saw him just before the midwinter feast. Is there anything new to concern him since then?  
Gandalf was silent for a moment apparently concentrating upon drawing his pipe to a better smoulder.  
"Only that it is his intention to permit his son to visit with him," he said at last, "a recognition of the friendship between you and his pleasure at you finally resuming the seat of you forefathers, But given what has passed he would be assured that such a visit would present no difficulties for you."  
Bard's smile widened.  
"I knew he had returned to his father's halls but did not expect to see him visiting outside the forest so soon. To see them both here would be an honour I had not looked for and it would give me joy. As for difficulties, for me it causes none unless ..."  
There his voice tailed away for a moment.

Gandalf said nothing but watched him through a haze of pipe smoke with a measured look. Eventually Bard spoke again.  
"I do not know the substance of the history between Dain and the Elvenking nor would I seek to trespass upon things that are not of my concern, but it was clear enough in the little I saw that day before we buried Thorin Oakenshield that something most serious was amiss. Whether it is related to the elven maid who cannot return home I cannot say, though I know there is some matter of unease between King Thranduil and King Dain on her account. But I have undertaken to shield her presence here from Dain's knowledge as much as I can when she is about the town, or at least to see that he is not called upon to see her when he visits, few though his visits are these days. Nothing has changed, she remains here as I told him in the winter and as far as I can judge she does as she is bid and does not parade about where she might be seen by a dwarf of Dain's guard."  
He drew a deep breath and looked sharply at the wizard.  
"My only concern would be if the coming of the king's son were to alter that. Should it do then I could not consider myself responsible for the outcome."

Gandalf puffed on his pipe in silence for a moment before he replied.  
"I do not think it will, nor would he consider you any any way at fault of it did."  
He looked across at Bard with a knowing smile.  
"One of my tasks whilst here is to meet with her and prepare her for the visit, and to convey to her the king's expectations of her conduct with and towards his son at the ceromonies. But I would be sure that there has been no sign of Dain's renewed interest in her that you are aware of before I speak with her."  
Bard shook his head.  
"None at all. Dain himself is rarely here as I have said, nor then is his guard who stay close to him within the mountain. Nor do those who came with Oakenshield often visit; I think they find the destruction the Dragon wrought upon the men of the lake by their pursuit of gold hard to face. As for others, well they would know nothing of whatever the matter is unless Dain charges them to do so. I have seen no sign that he does so."

"So there has been no difficulty between the dwarfs and the elves in Dale? No taunts or mocking skirmishes or threats. I'd not expect it of those close to the Kings but others can be quick to follow a scent if they catch it and will often push it much further than their Lords would have sanctioned."  
Bard shook his head.  
"No, I feared there might be in the early days when dwarfs came out of the south and east to join Dain but it seems he had a tight grip upon the behaviour of his people. No doubt he knows that they would have met with little sympathy amongst the men of the lake and of Dale given the destruction wrought by the dragoon."  
A shadow of an uncomfortable look flitted over the wizards face and Bard recalled the rumours of his part in the matter and was sorry for his unguarded words. He had never doubted that the wizard had acted for the best, or whatever he saw as the best, and dragons were unpredictable and Smaug might have chosen to destroy them at some point even without Thorin's quest. He smiled and patted the wizards arm.  
"But be easy, there has been no strife between elf and dwarf of any kind within the City, though I cannot speak for other places."

Gandalf nodded comfortably.  
"Good, I thought that would be the case. As you say there are other matters between Thranduil and Dain and it is true that those need not concern you. Unless you fear for their conduct in your City if they find themselves in the others company?"  
Bard smiled  
"The Elvenking is too a great lord to do anything of that kind, as for Dain well…..it was a time of anger and battle and tempers ran high, I am sure that in more sober times his manners are better disciplined. Certainly I have never seen him behave in anything but a most circumspect manner when in the company of King Thranduil, though it is true I have rarely seen them together."

Gandalf gave a benevolent smile, recalling the events of that day, for himself he would assume nothing of the sort for both Thorin's and Dain's behaviour had been most disappointing. But it was also true that Dain had learned a painful lesson after the battle, and that, if nothing else would hold him silent, albeit with gritted teeth.

Bard had risen to his feet.  
"I have business I must be about and if there is nothing more that you feel we need to say away from prying ears I will leave you for the moment and see you at sundown for as fine a dinner as you will have seen since leaving King Thranduil's halls. All my family are looking forward to seeing you."  
Gandalf inclined his head.  
"There is nothing more of a secret nature I would say to you. I will see you when the sun falls."  
Bard bowed and strode away.

Gandalf watched him go with a thoughtful look. It was clear that though Bard knew a little of the wider matter between Thranduil and Dain he had not learned the sum of it since that meeting, and therefore it seemed likely that it was not spoken of at all, which should make his discussion with Dain a little less fraught. But would it be enough to prevent Dain opening any further rifts between dwarf and elf in time? Thranduil would stand no further public insults and while he might not react in the wider view his anger would be cold and long reaching behind the scenes, just what Gandalf most wanted to avoid. He puffed on his pipe and turned matters round in his mind for a while before putting that pipe aside and rising to return to the house. No, Bard was right and the dwarf would behave becomingly if only in public; and all would pass off well enough provided nothing said in private was repeated. If nothing stirred the matter of this faithless guard and her actions on Ravenhill then there was little to be feared it seemed. Perhaps he has been worrying unnecessarily.

As he stepped across the threshold his frown returned. He could only hope he would be of the same mind same after he had met with the banished elf, and that was perhaps a matter best not delayed for long.


	25. Chapter 25

**And its getting too long again**

 **Happy New Year to all  
**

 **Meetings 2 - Difficult questions**

There was still an hour or more to sundown when the guard captain came and told him that she could be released from duty if he would see her then.

For a moment he hesitated wondering if he should wait until the following day when there would be no other calls upon his time, but to do so would leave her knowing of his presence and his wish to speak with her but with no knowledge of why, and in such circumstances that felt unkind. There were other considerations too, for if there were questions still hanging over her after they had spoken then he might want to seek more information from Bard and a family dinner would be a good time to do so without attracting much comment.

Therefore after a moment or two he nodded and asked that she brought to him.

While he waited he smoked a pipe and marshalled his thoughts, wondering how best to make the approach. Thranduil had not been of much help in the matter for it had been clear the Elvenking had not wanted to believe that the darkness had caught her, though why that was the case was less clear, even hard to understand given her insults to him. The king knew, none better, that her behaviour passed all reason and excuse; he knew too that everything she had done could be explained easily if one just assumed that the shadow had taken her, and yet he resisted the idea. Why was that? Some residual parental feeling seemed the most likely explanation; what else could it be? It was clear that he had been something of an indulgent parent to her, perhaps too indulgent. Thranduil was a wise lord and careful in ensuring fair treatment for all was given, and seen to be given, and yet he had apparently allowed her preferment above that which her experience, her ability even now seemed to justify. To Gandalf recalling the battle before the mountain it seemed that while she was no doubt a a competent enough warrior when in the forest her skills as demonstrated by the events in Dale and on Ravenhill could not be considered exceptional in any way.

He sighed, that an elvish captain of the guard had required the assistance of a juvenile dwarf to stay alive must irk Thranduil terribly, though he had said nothing of it. Dain would make capital of that for the next two hundred years if the chance arose!

He pushed the thought away as there came a soft knock upon the door and he called out for the visitor to come in.

She came quietly, still in armour but without her bow and knife, and crossed the room to where he sat. She stood beside him in silence, unmoving, until he looked at her over the bowl of his pipe, and then she bowed and yet still said nothing. He gazed at her in silent consideration for a moment, and he found himself wondering why Thranduil was taking such pains over her when there was nothing exceptional or unusual about her. She was fair, as was to be expected, but not particularly so for an elf; in fact she seemed almost nondescript to eyes that had looked upon Arwen and Galadrial. Nor was she tall or more than usually graceful for one of her kind. The only unusual thing about her appearance was the red of her hair, a shade that was than brighter than was was common in elves. A shade that had in the past been associated with those amongst Elvenkind who had committed most sin. He clamped his teeth around his pipe and smothered a sigh, he would need to be careful not to let that observation sway his assessment of her.

Finally he noticed the growing tension within in her and he somewhat belatedly returned her bow with an inclination of his head  
"You are Tauriel I gather." He said kindly and with a slight smile  
She raised her eyes and briefly met his without an answering smile before dropping her gaze again staring at a point to the front of his feet. She replied without any expression on her face or in her voice.  
"I am my lord and I am told that you wish to speak to to me."  
He suppressed another sigh realising that he had not begun this matter well, but there was nothing he could do to mend it now, He puffed on his pipe for a moment then blew out a ring of smoke, as the circle rose between them he waved towards the chair opposite him.  
"That I do, I have some questions I would ask you and it may be that it takes some time to ask them all so please draw up a chair and pour yourself a drink, for I assume that you have come straight from duty."  
She inclined her head again but made no move to sit as she replied.  
"If you wish it my lord, though I am at a loss as to how I might help you."  
She paused for a moment looking back up and into his face and then she cast down her eyes once again and said softly,  
"I hope all is well with the forest and within our Realm, there has been nothing to suggest otherwise."  
Gandalf flicked his hand to dispel the suggestion.  
"Be easy on that, all is well. But as I said, sit and drink for I am sure I have drawn you from your meal."

For a moment she made no move, and then with a sudden turn she grasped the flagon and poured a cup of wine before sinking onto the chair in front of him. Her face was pale, paler than usual he judged, and her eyes were wide with some emotion he could not read for the moment. She took a mouthful of the wine then clasped the cup between her hands as if she feared it would run away, she swallowed hard and looked down at the floor again and it seemed to the wizard that she spoke with some difficulty and with a hint of something close to desperation in her voice.  
"Did the king send you? If he did then I hope I have not displeased him for I have done what he asked of me in every way. If I have caused offence to him or any other it is not by any intent I swear."

Gandalf felt an unexpected surge of sympathy for it seemed that a sudden sorrow had decended upon her when she mentioned the forest, a sorrow that had deepened when she spoke of the king. But the sorrow, and he was not sure of its cause, was not alone, it was accompanied by a look of shame that took him by surprise and that struck a chord within him, for at that moment she seemed lost. Perhaps it was as Thranduil had hoped, that her past misdeeds were recognised by her and regretted. But that might not be the case, it may be simply regret for what she no longer had, for she had cut herself adrift from all she had supposedly loved and valued for something that could never be and that, perhaps, she did not understand. At least she had done so if she was honest and for the moment he must still assume that she was, and so he strove to put a note of reassurance into his voice as he answered her.

"I have spoken much with him of late and he has mentioned no such offence to me, and though he has made it possible for me to speak with you it is not at his behest that I have come. It is true that the matters I would speak of are of much interest and concern to him but I must make it clear before we begin that it is I who have asked to speak with you, he has not sent me."  
He looked for a sign or greater ease in her but found none, which suggested it was more than further punishment from Thranduil that she feared. He continued kindly,  
"But sit a while and take some more refreshment before we broach my questions for the streets are dusty and the wind blows chill off the lake."  
She inclined her head without raising her eyes and once again lifted the cup to her lips, her hand was steady enough as she did so and she appeared calm but the air of being adrift still hung around her. As she sipped the wine he watched her closely noting with a sense of frustration that there was nothing at all about her that was familiar at all, not even the worrying colour of her hair.

He recalled that there had been a female elf with Legolas when he arrived in that unexpected manner from Gundebad, and yet if he had been asked to say with certainty if this was the one he could not have done so. Nor did he recall her being present when he had accosted Thranduil to beg elves to be sent to Ravenhill, which was another odd thing now he came to think of it. He sucked harder on his pipe as he recalled that time, he had not seen her threats to the king but Thranduil had told him where she had accosted him and how she had challenged him on his 'turning away' as she had put it. That being the case, and he had no reason to doubt the Elvenkings recollections, she must have been close by as his own request had been refused. For her comments as reported to him were clearly aimed at gaining assistance for those few on Ravenhill, indeed it seemed that she had shown scant regard for anyone or anything else.

He watched her through the pipe smoke as he reviewed his conversation with Thranduil on the matter. Yes, now he thought about it that was indeed odd, for the point at which she had assailed her king had been some way from where he had turned away from Gandalf's request, how then had she overheard that exchange and yet still got ahead of Thranduil to block his path? Had it been some form of sorcery?

Gandalf carefully avoided allowing his thoughts to appear on his face but within himself he was frowning, for it seemed there might be more cause for concern than even he had suspected when he had travelled the road here. Yet he would not allow that concern to shape his approach to her as yet, he would go carefully for it was clear that she was wounded and yet he was not sure what form those wounds took. Nor must he forget that the Elvenking, the most affected by her spite, had suggested there might be other reasons than evil for her actions. So as the silence stretched he watched her sip her wine and waited for her to be ready to speak, and all the time his mind reached out and tried to fathom the shape of the feeling that tormented her.

After a while she lowered the cup to her lap and looked back up at him, a hint of colour returned to her face. Seeing it he smiled at her again in encouragement.  
"What do you wish to ask me my lord?" she said softly.  
Gandalf looked at her closely for despite the calm words the aura of being lost was still there, that and a weariness he could not decipher and so he strove for a gentle tone despite the hard nature of his words.  
"Before I ask anything of you I must impress upon you how important it is that you answer me truthfully and as fully as you can. Though my questions may seem strange, even unimportant, to you I assure you they are not. I would not have sought you out in this manner it it were otherwise."

That brought a frown to her face for it was clear that she had not expected such vehemance. She moved forward in her seat with a look of entreaty on her face.  
"I will answer anything you ask my lord, and tell all that I know. But you say nothing is wrong in the forest or with the king, is it then the prince? I know that he left after the battle but I thought he had now returned home, please do not say that some harm has come to him!"  
Her agitation took him by surprise, for she had shown little concern for Legolas in the days after he departed, or so Thranduil had said, and he hurried to reassure her.  
"I have told you all is well in the forest and with the king, that could not be so if the prince were harmed, now could it? But if you wish me to state it more plainly then I will. He is indeed well and has returned home. Be easy on that score."

She relaxed a little then and he was silent for a while as she recovered herself. Then he began again.  
"As I have said all is well in the forest for the moment, the creatures of the darkness have withdrawn or perished when the necromancer's spell was removed, and the shadow is lifting from the trees. Orcs no longer haunt the mountains or the wild land as once they did and a form of peace reigns. But it can only be for a while, for though the dark lord has fled the fortress in the forest he is not dead nor is he banished from the world. That I regret was not found to be possible, and being so there can be no doubt that he will rise again and we must all be prepared. In that preparation even the most trivial detail may be vital."  
She stared at him, her eyes widening slightly at his serious tone and sombre look. There was confusion in her face and uncertainty in her voice as she replied.  
"I have said that I will answer all that you ask my lord, but I know nothing that can be use to you in that matter for I know nothing of Sauron."

He looked at her closely but there seemed to be nothing but surprise in her look and voice, but then he had not expected otherwise for the most menial of Sauron's servants were practiced deceivers. But he must not see deceit where there might not be any he reminded himself, for her answer might be honest. He smiled softly at her.  
"Are you sure of that? That is the question that I need to answer. For the shadow can be subtle and trap the unwary almost without their knowing."  
The surprise in her became alarm.  
"My Lord! I must ask that you speak plainly, am I accused of doing so?"  
"Is there cause for any to do so?" he responded with a searching look.  
She moved forward again to sit on the edge of the chair and desperation was now clearly written in her face.  
"No!" Tears shone on her eyes and the hands about the cup gripped tight enough to break something more delicate. "I know that I have not acted wisely, that I have behaved as no elf of any honour or conscience should, and I have done things that cause me much shame to think on, but am I now charged with more than that? Does the king think that? For if he does how am I to defend myself when I have already sacrificed both his regard and his trust. I have no friends remaining nor even the respect of most I once fought beside, all of this I know I lost by my own actions and I will bear that loss as well as I can. But this greater thing you hint at, how would I bear that? Who would speak for me now should I be so charged?"

Gandalf sighed and shook his head.  
"As I have said there are no charges, but there are questions to be asked and that must be answered,"#He could feel the fear in her now, wrapped tight around her like a winters cloak, and something more, a feeling such as woodland deer might feel when facing a giant spider, the desire to flee but the sense that it is already too late. She swallowed hard, the panic written clear in her wide eyes, but she held on to her dignity and her voice was steady enough as she spoke.  
"Ask them then and I will answer, though if you will not believe me I do not know how I will convince you."

XXX

Thranduil entered the room whilst Legolas was busy restringing his favourite bow. The sight of him at such a mundane task filled his father with satisfaction and he sent up another prayer of thanks that the storms of that terrible winter seemed to be blown out.  
"Mithrandir has reached Dale in safety." He said as he passed by his son on his way to the table,  
Legolas looked up with a smile.  
"That is good. Does he plan to remain there long?"  
"A day or so he told me, and nothing has occurred to alter that on the road; long enough for him to speak with Bard and reacquaint himself with his family at least.  
"Long enough to speak with Tauriel too," Legolas added with another smile.

His father reached out for a particularly tempting looking apple, its skin barely withered by the months stored in a barrel, and spoke without looking round.  
"Yes, I would think he will seek to do that as soon as he may."  
Legolas turned his eyes back to his bow.  
"Then we might look to receive his letter soon.  
"Let us hope so, for I confess I would wish to know as soon as may be of his view upon her innocence."

At that Legolas looked up again and gave his father a long considering look.  
"Yet you do think she is innocent?"  
Thranduil stared at the apple in his hand and his face was washed of all expression as he replied.  
"Innocent of being a servant of the dark one? I would wish to believe it for I would not think that any of our people remain open to his words." There was the hint of sigh in his voice.  
"Yet you are not sure?  
'How many times must I ask him this?' Legolas thought as he heard his own words, 'how many times must I hear him excuse her. Make him excuse her, before I allow myself to believe myself excused for my part in her treachery.'

The king seemed unaware of the implications of the question and continued to stare at the apple in his hand with a slight frown. When he spoke there was no sign he referred to anything more than the elf guard, though he knew only too well the possible effect of his words upon his son.  
"Less sure now than once I was, but distance can make one see things in a different light Then, in the days after the battle in Dale, the hurt was such that I could not see past it, for her hatred seemed so personal, directed at me and nothing else. Even once I returned to the forest I remembered little more of the matter than the hiss of hatred in her voice and the desire to hurt that had been written so clearly in her face."  
He bit into the apple.

Legolas said nothing and after one hurried glance at his father's face he turned his eyes back to the bow, though his hands were still. Thranduil didn't seem to notice and swallowing the mouthful of fruit he continued to speak in a calm and meditative voice.  
" But later other things came back to me, things that she had done and said that bore many interpretations, some simply foolish others open to a more sinister view, only then did I come to think that a greater evil might be at the base of it. Yet until you returned the doubts remained unformed for there was too much I could not be sure of.  
Legolas nodded thoughtfully recalling his father's careful questioning on his return home."Now, what is your thought now?"  
The king took the chair beside the table carefully inspecting the apple in his hand as he responded, but he felt a passing sorrow that even now his son must return to such a well worn track.  
"On balance I still think her reasons for her actions were much as I suspected then, and that the dark one was not their cause. But as the wizard says in such times as this we cannot take such things lightly, and the opinion of one not so close to the matter is of value."  
"True, and Gandalf is well skilled in detecting those who have fallen for the lures of Sauron.  
"Perhaps, though sometime I wonder if he is as good at that as he thinks himself to be."  
Legolas smiled softly.  
"Certainly he has much faith in his own wisdom."

Thranduil gave a soft huff of laughter, too soft for Legolas to be sure of its meaning, and nodded.  
"In the past I have thought he has perhaps too much faith in that. But he has never truly failed us when he was needed and so I hope that if the future is as dark as I fear it may yet be that his faith in himself is fully justified."  
He took another bite of the apple and sank into silence. Legolas returned to his ministrations to his bow, his deft fingers making good the damage wrought by recent practice sessions as his thoughts drifted across past and present. Eventually he raised his eyes and seeing his father was on the point of discarding the apple core he risked another question.  
"When he has seen her, if he finds her wanting, what will you do?"

The king sighed, for they had had this conversation, or one much like it, before. It seemed that his son still needed to pick at the healing wound. With that in mind he answered as if it was the first time the question had been asked.  
"I am hoping most earnestly that he does not find her wanting for I am not sure what I can do, yet act I must in such circumstances. But even Mithrandir's opinion is just that, opinion not proof, and therefore to bring her back here for a period of undetermined confinement seems to be unwise. Yet there is no other choice, I cannot leave her free to endanger the men of the lake or our own Realm nor can I banish her without the risk of greater mischief from her at some point in the future. I cannot send her to the west, not if the darkness is upon her, at least not without long and wide consulatations with other elven communities."  
He gave a deep and bitter sigh.  
"As for the most direct and obvious course…. ", he waived a hand as if to push the thought away, "I would find it hard to justify by the laws of our people and it would cause me much pain even if I could. Yet if he is certain and can marshall enough evidence to convince our law givers, and if she is unable to refute his arguments, then the crown may yet demand it of me."

Legolas cast his eyes down, unwilling to see the trouble in his father's face. He had always been aware that his sire's crown was a thing of terrible weight, just as he had always known that in the nature of things its weight might fall upon his own head if the Dark Lord prospered and the days of battle continued. But at that moment he seemed to feel it bearing down upon him even though his father still wore it. He fixed his eyes upon his bow but his mind was a long way from its string, back in the past where he had hoped to find a bonding with Tauriel, to face the future, even that future possibility of the crown, together and in harmony. Yet events had shown that she could not bear even the weight of her own freely made oaths and vows when they were set in opposition to a sudden fancy, how then would she have borne the shadow of the crown? It seemed that she could not have done so and that he should be glad that neither he nor she, nor his father and his people come to that, had been put to the grief of her trying. For he no longer doubted that she would have failed.

With that realisation a little bit more of the remaining grief for his dreams of the past stuttered like the flame of a failing candle and died, replaced by a small and faint sense of relief. Yet the feeling soon faded for he knew where his father's words led and would not wish so cruel a fate upon her, not even with the knowledge that she would have killed her king with little compunction and even less justification.

"Could it come to that?" he asked slowly.  
The king stared at the wall with a frown, for they had discussed this before too.  
"I hope not. Had I thought there was such evidence at the time I would never have left her in Dale, but as I have said the times were singular and my judgement perhaps not as clear as it should have been. I did what I thought was required of me but nothing more. Perhaps I feared being swayed by my own hurt. Perhaps the memories of the past petitioned for mercy for her, I no longer know. Now I must trust to a wizard's sight to make sure I was not in error. I do not find it comfortable but so must it be."  
Legolas nodded silently, sending up a small prayer that the wizard found in her favour.  
"Well we should know soon enough," he said softly, "it cannot be more than another day or two. Perhaps Lord Elrond would have some suggestions to make as to what to do with her if any doubt of her alliegance is thought to remain. At least if it is decided that he will come?"  
Thranduil nodded.  
"It is decided. I replied bidding him come and his messenger was gone before sunrise. He cannot be here much before the last spring feast, and it seems that he has some weigthy concerns of his own to discuss, and so I would not hold out much hope of help on Tauriel's count from that quarter."  
"No perhaps not. You still have no information as what those weightly matters are then?"

Thranduil shot his son a sharp look but Legolas's eyes were fixed on his bow again. He knew that he would need to broach the matter of the identity of Elrond's ward before they arrived, the details of his parentage had not arisen whilst Legolas had been visiting Imladris but it seemed unlikely that it could be avoided entirely during their visit to Mirkwood, certainly not if Legolas was to spend any time with the youth. Nor would Legolas have forgotten that the Strider he had been sent to seek out on Ravenhill had been the son of Arathorn, that there were two such son's was not likely to be accepted as an answer when he discovered that this strippling was the son of the same man But Thranduil knew that would not lie to his son on the matter even if he had thought it might be, better Legolas learned the truth of his fruitless quest now. If only he was not still so preoccupied with Tauriel there might be less cause for concern on the matter. But his constant return to her guilt or otherwise, and the shadow of anxiety in his eyes, showed that he clearly was still much concerned about that and there was nothing that could be done about it for the moment. He pushed the thought away for the moment and contented himself with a nod.  
"No, other than his desire to have us know his ward, as I told you, he has given little information. I know what they are unlikely to be, but nothing more than that."

Legolas smiled and returned his attention to his bow.  
"Then it seems that we shall have several calls upon our patience, as well that we are elves then, and so can stand such delays as required."  
The king rose and crossed the room, dropping his hand onto his son's shoulder as he passed.  
"Indeed it is. Imagine how irritiating it would be if we were mortal men, or worse still dwarfs!" he said.  
Legolas gave a soft chuckle.  
"I think I would rather not."  
The hand patted his shoulder briefly then was removed. He heard the swish of a long robe as his father left to be about other business.

He stared at the bow beneath his fingers with a frown. Whatever and however Gandalf found he feared that the matter of Tauriel would remain unresolved, at least in some part, and now it seemed that other concerns were to be brought to them. Elrond had been a poor ally in the years of darkness, hidden in his protected valley guarded by towering peaks and narrow passes, yet it seemed that he felt that his concerns should be also those of the king of the Woodland Realm. Legolas sighed, it seemed that their scant years of respite might not be as peaceful as they deserved.

XXXX

"Ask them then and I will answer, though if you will not believe me I do not know how I will convince you."

Gandalf sat back and looked at her with a calm yet watchful expression, noting that, for the moment at least, there seemed to be no hesitation in her. He nodded.  
"Very well. As I told you many of them may seem trivial to you but answer them as well as you can."  
She nodded in her turn, apparently eager enough to hear what he had to say, and he smiled as he began.

"Think back to the time before Thorin and his company came into the forest to your duties and concerns within the forest. Was there any time when the king sent you, or any other of his people, south beyond his borders? Towards the Mirkwood Mountains perhaps? Or even further maybe, south and west towards the fortress at Dol Guldor?"  
She shook her head.  
"No my Lord, the king was most emphatic on the matter, none were sent beyond our borders except a few scouts perhaps, and certainly none were sent so far south, not to the mountains nor to the fortress you name."  
Her voice was bell clear and certain.

He nodded his acceptance of her report and continued.  
"Then did the prince ever ask you to make such a journey or ask you to accompany him on such travels?"  
She looked shocked at his question  
"No my lord, the king's prohibition extended to his son and the prince made no attempt to disobey him, of that I am sure."  
"Can you be sure of that?"  
"Yes! Even were he willing to disobey his father so grievously it could not have been done unnoticed, for the journey to the mountains is a long one, a march of close on a moon cycle even in good weather, and one requiring much preparation and supply. All of the king's house, as well as the Council and his guard, would have known long before any could set off and none would have left the King uninformed of such a plan."  
Gandalf considered her for a while in silence then he inclined his head.  
As I would have expected." He said softly. "So the next question must follow as day follows night. Did you make such a journey on your own without permission? If you did then how was it that no one missed you?"

This time she hesitated and her look changed, now she regarded him warily as if a first whiff of danger in the questions had occurred to her.  
"No my lord, I made no such journey. Nor could I have done so undiscovered. I had my duties to perform and I would have been missed had I been gone more than a sunrise or two. Had I been caught in such a deed the king would have told you, for I am sure you know full well of the events around my desertion."  
The wizard was silent for a moment watching her closely, he got no feeling of evasion from her nor was there any sign that she understood the reasons for his questions. Finally he inclined his head.  
"Very well. Then in the time before Thorin's company entered the forest had you ever met anyone who had travelled to the south of the forest or to that fortress?"

She drew a deep breath and seemed to give the matter due thought, then she shook her head but the wary look remained.  
"No my Lord. At least none who told me of it, nor who I heard speak of it."  
"You are sure of that?"|  
"Yes my lord I would not have forgotten such a thing.  
"Then did the prince meet anyone who had been there and did he tell you of it?"  
She shook her head again.  
"Again my lord I must answer no."  
"So you and Legolas never spoke of the fortress?"  
Now a shadown of unease moved across her face.  
"I….." she paused as if seeking the right word, "recall that we spoke of it at times."  
"Spoke of it. But neither of you ever went there, or met with any one who had been there?"  
Again there was some hesitation before she answered as if it had occurred to her to wonder at his direction. Finally she replied.  
"That is so my lord."

Gandalf watched her with an expression still kindly if serious. Her unease was now more obvious but he still felt no sense of evasion or deceit, no hint of guilt or desire to hide. Yet she had cut much of the ground from beneath her own feet, for how could she now answer the questions still to come  
"Then we are left with a difficult question are we not?"  
Now she looked uncomfortable, her eyes not quite meeting his.  
"What question is that my lord?"  
"Why you told the king that the spiders were spawning at Dol Guldor? If you have not been there, and you had spoken to none who had, how could you claim such knowledge?"

His voice was gentle enough but at that question all colour left her face and a stricken look entered her eyes. Now her distress was obvious, she gripped her hand yet more tightly about the cup and looked down into it as if she had never seen it before. For a moment she was silent and then she drew a shuddering breath.  
"I told you the truth my lord, I have not been there nor spoken with any who has."  
"So, how then did you know, for the king tells me your claim of knowledge was direct and your eagerness to travel there, to have him mount an assault there, was unmistakable. For you pressed it beyond the right of your rank."  
The meaning of his questions seemed to suddenly occur to her and her eyes were wide and frightened and awash with tears.  
"He thinks that I had some dealing with the dark one," her voice was little more than a whisper but hoarse with fear, "that it was at that ones bidding I would have led him there. That seems to be what you suggest my lord. Is that truly the case, for I am lost if it is. Does he now believe that, do you believe the same?"

When Gandalf did not reply she looked down at her hands again and a tear ran the length of her cheek. She bowed her head.  
"Perhaps I can see why he might suspect such a thing given what followed afterwards, what reason does he have to think well of me after all, but I swear to you that is not so. But I do not see how I can defend myself against such a charge if you and he are willing to believe it. I only wonder why he has not charged me with this before."  
Gandalf replied slowly and quietly.  
"Because until his son returned home he could not be sure that there was not some innocent reason that you might believe it, something the prince had known or said that you misunderstood. But the prince is returned and he says that is not so, as you have just confirmed. That being the case the question must be answered, and he felt that you might find the question more bearable coming from me than from him given what had already passed between you."  
She nodded but did not raise her eyes.

Gandalf was silent for a while until t became obvious she did not intend to explain unless pressed further.  
"So why then did you make such a claim?"#He saw the muscles of her throat tighten as she swallowed hard and it was clear that she was reluctant to speak, yet in the end she did reply though her voice still low and pained.  
"I did not know my lord, not in that I had seen or had been told. But they appeared to come from the south and knowing the fortress to be a place of dark magic it seemed obvious to me that the place would be where they would breed."  
Gandalf sat back in his chair and regarded her with narrowed eyes, for he considered the explanation more than a little thin.  
"You thought that even the spawn of the Ugolaint would venture so close to the sorcerer's domain? You thought that the necromancer would permit such a thing of such creatures?"  
Now she raised her eyes and they were still bright with unshed tears and desperation.  
" I do not think I thought of it that way my lord. Merely that it seemed so clear to me that it was there we would find their spawning ground. But I assure you there was no more to it than that."

He continued to stare at her and she met his gaze steadily as if by doing so she could convince him. In the end he spoke again, some softness in his voice but also a sternness that caused her to pale still further  
"You spoke as if you did not think the King knew, so he reported,why would you think that you, a member of the guard, would know something that your king did not, unless you had some good reason to do so? Nor were you backward in pressing your desire for action, it seems that you were so sure in that belief that you would have had the king divide his forces, which were already stretched as well you must have known, had him leave some of his lands and his people unprotected, just to enable such a venture? Or did you think to go alone and if you did why were you so sure that you could succeed?"  
She stared at him in wide eyed shock.  
"You think that was my purpose? That is why you ask these questions? You think that I sought to prevail upon the king to act in such a manner so as to weaken my people's defences for some dark purpose? It is not so I swear it!"  
Gandalf looked at her sternly.  
"Yet the question must be asked, even more so now for you have just shown that you understand the implications of your request. Was that then the purpose, to weaken your people's fight against the shadow, to leave your king's halls unprotected? The king was clear that you were mightily disappointed when he refused your request to journey to Dol Guldar."

Horror was now written beside the shock in her face.  
"Only because I feared that the crearures of evil might spread beyond the forest!"  
Gandalf sat forward, his hands planted upon his knee and his eyes raked her face with dark fire.  
"Or perhaps they would not, for they never have done so yet, and there is nothing to suggest that will change. What did you know of their reasons or intentions? Did you correspond with other lands on the matter? Did you sit in Council with the King and his advisors and debate it? Did you have spies and informants that told you of what was happening in the south forest?"  
Her face was picture of misery and yet he gave no quarter.  
"Well did you do any of those things? Did you have any solid knowledge of the matter at all?"  
"No." the word was a shiver on the air between them.  
He sighed.  
"No. Yet you would have gad the king wage war upon the sorcerer's castle,despite the dread consequences such a pointless act might bring. You would have had him lead your comrades there, on the whim of maybe, even as your people struggled to keep their lands fair and free on a daily basis with no help from others or hope of it! Why was that? What innocent purpose could there have been for such demands!"  
She remained silent her eyes locked on his with an expression of hopelessness.

He sighed again but his voice didn't soften.  
"When you failed to manage that, failed to divide the Kings forces, when he thwarted your ambitions, was it then that you first decided that he, the king, must die. Or had that always been your intention?"


	26. Chapter 26

**This is getting too long again and this point seems a good break point to break.**

 **To those who have commented thank you, especially those who do so as guests and who I cannot reply to in other ways, your reading and commenting is greatly appreciated.**

 **I hope the formatting etc comes across OK, Im having technology problems. I think my laptop may have caught my christmas/new year flu.  
**

 **BTW Happy New Year to all I haven't already said it to.**

 **Meetings 3 – Yet more questions**

"When you failed to manage that, failed to divide the Kings forces, when he thwarted your ambitions, was it then that you first decided that he, the king, must die. Or had that always been your intention?"

The words seemed to echo around the room like thunder in the mountains, the very air growing cold and heavy with the weight of them, and shadows seemed to spring up where a moment ago there had been none.

The charge was a chilling one and it lay at the heart of his concern, had she sought to weaken Mirkwood's defences by intent or by ignorance then? Had she sought to weaken it by the king's death when that had failed and an opportunity had presented itself? For weakened the forest realm would have been had Thranduil gone chasing spiders so close to the enemy's stronghold as she had asked His magic would not have been protection against the resident of that fell tower, nor would all his battle skills, for in that fortress dwelt a malice had nearly been too much for the Lady and an elven ring!

If she had killed him, or brought about his death in some other manner, then the Woodland Realm would be weaker for the loss of a great and wise king. For so many centuries Thranduil had resisted the enemy alone, keeping his kingdom secure, fighting the spreading darkness as best he might by his own power, his foresight, and the skills of his people. There had been no allies in this fight,no help, from neither south nor west, from neither elf nor man nor dwarf. Whilst those to the east were either enemies or looked to him for protection and the north had been rendered a barren waste by a dragon. How lonely it must have been. How impossible a task for one less determined or well versed in the ways of the enemy. One such as his son. Was that what she had sought to do? To remove the father, whose wisdom would not be swayed by her wide eyes and empty, if fine, words, and replace him with the son. The son who, brave and skilled in arms as he was, might be persuaded by heroic visions of errantry and valour and who therefore, in his ignorance, would rupture his land's defences and leave his people open to the invasion of the enemy's servants.

A terrible charge to make, but a terrible act if that was what she had sought to do. But had she? Or was she truly just a naïve innocent with foolish dreams of glory and a silly and most unelvish fancy for a bold young dwarf? That was what he had set himself to decide and therefore the charge must be made.

For a moment there was no response and his words seemed to echo on the silence of the room, she stared at him as if she no longer saw him, seeming frozen as if turned to stone. Gandalf puffed on his pipe and said nothing, letting the words hang heavy on the air and content to wait for her answer however long it might take to come. But he watched her closely as he waited, looking for the signs that would tell him if her shock were at the suggestion or at being caught out in her plans.

For the moment he was undecided. There was no sign of calculation that he could detect, no hint that she was planning a lie or recalling one already rehearsed; the blankness in her eyes seemed to reflect just that, a blankness, as if all thought and feeling had stopped. The tears continued to run down her cheeks and her hands twisted in her lap as if she no longer controlled them, her defensive guard, so obvious earlier in their conversation, appeared to be totally lost. Now was the time to trap her in deceit if deceitful she was.

Yet despite the cold, stern, gaze he fixed upon her, and harshness of his challenge, he did not feel either anger or hatred seeping from her. There was no hint of an evil trying to find a path to safety, nor any sense of hatred for her questioner. But there was something, as he watched her and let his mind drift closer to hers he could feel it, something was not as it should be, some shadow was there, a hint of some deep feeling long held vibrated within in her and had her in thrall. A feeling that came close to a yearning, something with the quality of hunger gnawed deep within her, a desire that came close to torment. It was certainly not grief for a lost and barely known dwarf for it was older than that and far deeper. It disturbed him but it did not feel like the bitterness or evil of the dark one, what then was it? Was this shadow, and its cause, that which Thranduil had hinted at when he had said there might be other reasons for her hatred?

Gandalf suddenly recalled his past visits to Thranduil's Halls and the picture came to him of the elf who had stood in the shadows and watched the Elvenking in silence. It had been this elf he remembered, and, in that recollection, for a moment, he felt that he was coming closer to what this hint of darkness in her might prove to be.

But then the moment was gone for suddenly her immobility was broken as she shook her head, slowly at first then more quickly.  
"No!" the word came out on a strangled gasp. "No!"  
She looked into his eyes and he was struck by the sudden impression that what ever the cause of that shadow she had long expected to be asked this question but hoped, until this moment, that the time had passed when she might be.

The wizard frowned at her  
"No that was not the moment when you decided to kill the king, or, no that had not always been your intention?"  
"Both!" Her hands writhed in her lap. "My Lord I never made any plan to kill the king, nor thought of it. Though I admit that I pointed an arrow at him the act was not planned in the way that you suggest."  
Gandalf puffed on his pipe in silence for a moment, his eyes locked upon her face, and then he removed it and sighed, gesturing towards her with the pipe bowl.  
"So you did not intend to fire that arrow at him? Your action was nothing more than a gesture of pique because he would not do as you demanded? How could that be, how could you, a guard, one who grew up in the king's house, have done such a thing? Then and there in the midst to battle against your most deadly foes, whose evil you could not have doubted, at a time when all around your people were fighting and dying? You had fought the shadow beside some of them who already lay dead or dying, yet you chose then for your for your show of temper. What respect did you show for them and their pains, those who had risked all with you in the past? What did you think would be the outcome of such a deed, of their king and commander being slaughtered by one of their own at such a time? You were a guard Tauriel were you not, with oaths and promises freely made, not least to the king? How then could you have done so foolish and childish a thing, how could that be?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head again and her voice was harsh with desperation.  
"All this I know my lord and I know your doubts are fair and just and I make no excuse nor look for further forgiveness. But I did not plan to kill the king. I had no desire to see him dead, nor harmed in any way. He was my king too."  
"That is not true is it? You had deserted his service, forsaken your post and quit your lands. Perhaps he had been your king once, but not then, for your own words make that clear, you had not repented of your actions at all when you met the king in Dale." He said softly.  
There was no change in her expression and after a moment he sighed and shook his head speaking sadly and with regret.  
"Those who heard the exchange say you acted with purpose and that your words betrayed both hatred and contempt for your king, and more than that, they spoke of your denial of his right and his worth. He who had sheltered you when you were alone and helpless. They say too that, as far as could be judged by the others present, your actions stemmed from that hatred as much as your fear for the dwarf, for I do not think that it was the fate of more than one that concerned you that day."

He paused, a thought hovering on the edge of his mind, a sense that he had just glimpsed something important for a moment, then the impression was lost and he continued once again, but in a colder and harsher tone.  
"That is the reason that some in the Woodland Realm call you kinslayer, that most terrible of all charges to make against an elf. They do so because they consider that your intention was indeed to kill your king and for the reasons of hatred of him and the desire for your own gain. They say also that you showed no concern for those of your kin who would be sent into further danger, again thinking only of your own anger and wants "

She stared at him with renewed shock as if such sentiments were new and unknown to her, swallowing hard and running the tip of her tongue over her lips before she replied.  
"Hatred, no I deny that is the case however it may have seemed. I wished only to prevail upon him to send aid to those on Ravenhill. As for gain my lord, how would I have gained by the act?"  
Gandalf shrugged.  
"If he fell to your arrow? That is clear enough, on his father's death you would have expected the son to take his place and you to protect you and declare your act something other than the treason it so clearly was to those who saw it. That son would be king and they, your people, would follow him. If you did not kill the father? Well by his death on Ravenhill perhaps, for your words suggested that you believed, indeed wished, that he would lead any elf forces he sent there himself. Knowing him as you did, one who would not expect his soldiers to enter danger that he shunned, knowing how many had already died, it seems probable that if he sent a force he would lead it, just as he had led the entry into the city."

'Did I think of that when I asked for his aid?' the thought popped up unbidden and he forced it back down into the darkener recess of his mind directing his attention back to the elf before him.  
"But if it was not his death you looked for at that moment then perhaps the gain you sought was the pain for him at more soldiers lost. For it seems clear by your choice of words, at least as they were reported to me, that you desired, intended, to cause him pain. Why choose those words if you had any other purpose? Perhaps you expected him to be so wounded that he would sail west leaving Mirkwood unprotected. "  
She continued to stare at him in silence and he felt another surge of anger as he recalled again what he had been told of that day, and he looked at her with narrowed eyes.  
"Was I right in my first supposition, that Legolas was your gain, however his father died or departed? For with the king dead or sailed he would assume the crown and so become your pawn, for his desire to please you at all costs had been made very apparent."  
She moved as if to protest but the wizard raised a hand to forestall her.  
"All saw the degree to which the prince was willing to aid you, perhaps you believed that he would take up his father's crown in an instant and do your bidding."

She rose slightly in her seat at that.  
"No! You think that I thought that? You think that I expected Legolas would come upon his father slain and would forgive his assassin and act as they wished? Why would I think such a thing, why would you think that I would?"  
Gandalf spread his hands and indicated that she should resume her seat  
"Why would I not? He was ready enough to interpret events in your favour when he came upon you only recently disarmed, perhaps you considered that you had distanced father and son sufficiently that he would?"  
"No."  
There was anguish in her voice and yet some other feeling too, the hint of that hunger, that shadow again, one that for the moment he still could not read.  
"I would not have you think such a thing of the prince, it is not true. He only acted as he did because he thought me at risk of death and sought to defend me as one who has been as a sister to him."

Gandalf sat back and stared at her wide eyed in apparent amazement.  
"Defend you, as a sister, from the one who has been father to you both. An odd interpretation of what I believe the prince saw. Your shattered bow at your feet, the fallen arrow, and the king's words must have told him what had occurred, even if he came too late to see it."  
His tone was as cold as the wind that blasted the northern mountains in winter and she shuddered as she replied as if at the cold.  
"No. I do not think he saw that. But I say again why should you, or any. think it, for even had he been willing to act as you suggest the king's guard would never have allowed it."

Gandalf inclined his head as if considering her words before he replied.  
"Perhaps that is so. But maybe you knew otherwise, or had reason to expect it would be otherwise. Perhaps you thought they would admire your action. Was that it, you thought to call them to treachery too? For when you levelled the arrow you seemed confident enough that guard would not strike at you, why else would you have risked it? Why was that? Had you placed some form of enchantment upon them, had you placed such a bewitchment upon the prince?"

She shook her head again and closed her eyes, perhaps against the memory, the pictures he conjured, or simply so that he should not see her thoughts written in them. For the moment he could not tell only that the groundswell of fear in her had now driven out all sense of grief..  
"My Lord, even if I wished to, and I did not, I have no such arts, at least none beyond those possessed by all my people. As you have said I am guard I know little of such matters and have no such skills."  
"Not without help perhaps," he said softly, "but then as a guard you can have no healing skills either and yet it is said that you healed the dwarf. How then did you do that? I know how Thranduil trains his guards and I accept that as a warrior you will have some simple and common knowledge of the healing of elves, but as I have heard it your actions went far beyond that, and were done for a being of which you have no knowledge or experience."

Yet it was more than that was it not. The thought grew suddenly large in his mind. She was a guard not a healer so why had she thought to heal at all, much less a dwarf? Elf and dwarf shared no common line, dwarfs were not of the kindred of the music and Eru's thought for the nations of the dwarfs sprang from another origin entirely, so how had she managed to heal the dwarf with elvish healing, particularly when the injury sprang from a dark weapon? That was something that would challenge even Elrond, if indeed it could be done! How could there be an innocent explanation for such apparent absurdity? He looked at her sternly.  
"It should not have been, so how was that accomplished except by some help from one more powerful than yourself? Who would provide such help?"

And that may yet prove to be true he realised, but it was also possible that she had no knowledge of it and was simply a tool, something used but unaware of the implications of her actions .Something else must lie behind this, but did she know what it was? Yet what possible gain could there be to the enemy in such an act? Perhaps her later gratitude, if her fascination with the dwarf continued. Particularly if she continued to hold sway over the prince. So again they came back to Thranduil's death or loss. Somehow all her actions led that way.

"No!" Now her eyes were wide again and dark with apparent horror. She hurried into speech.  
"I do not know why it worked, and I admit that it was a desperate act from which I expected no outcome other than failure, but I had to try. I used the herb and a chant I learned at my mother's knee, nothing more than that. There was no dark help, no other was involved either in the healing, nor when I faced the king, and I had no motives other than those I have owned. I have never served the shadow nor would I do so. Tell me does the king think this of me, does Legolas?"

Gandalf shrugged.  
"Legolas cannot explain your conduct any more than I or the king can, but he remains sure that you did not willingly serve the darkness. The king does not wish to believe it but he must consider the possibility given what came afterwards. You sought his death and he knows it, though he did not wish to think you more than angry and foolish now he must give consideration to other possibilities."  
"But I sought only to help those on Ravenhill my lord, to warn them, was that so wrong?"  
" Was that truly what you sought to do Tauriel? For if it was then you could have taken that warning yourself as no doubt the king has already noted. Yet you did not though you were free to do so. If you had asked he might have spared a couple of guards to assist you. But you did not, you made no move to offer that help yourself instead you sought to command him and threatened his life when he refused."

She drew a deep breath as if to push back her fear, and suddenly her manner changed. It was as if something occurred to her and a light of some suddenly perceived escape, some hope, brightened her eyes. In that moment her demeanour changed from fearful and subdued to something close to arrogance, and her next question was accompanied by a look of cold eyed unrepentant . She barely waited for him to finish speaking.  
"Yes I wished to prevail upon him to give help to the dwarfs, why should I not have done so. What came after I cannot excuse, at least some part of it. But in asking for the king's help for the dwarves how did my actions differ from your own my lord? Did you not also demand he sent his soldiers to warn them yet made no move to assist them yourself? How was my request, my action, different? Or did you also want King Thranduil dead that day?"


	27. Chapter 27

Meetings 4 Things are never that simple

For a second or two the wizard felt as if the words thrown so bitterly in his direction had knocked the breath from his body, as if he had been struck a blow in the stomach. He had not expected the sudden change in her for even her repeated apology for her threats to the king was, this time, cursory, almost dismissive. He was taken aback too by the tone of her voice when she spoke the king's name, the anger that vibrated in it and the bitterness etched into every syllable. Quickly he reviewed their exchanges of the last few minutes searching for a reason for her sudden outburst but he could find none; there seemed to be no reason for this sudden move to attack on her part, nothing that he recalled would be expected to change the grief and shock of just moments before. In fact he could find nothing that had not been said before, other, perhaps, than his comment on her desire to command Thranduil. It must be there that the source of this change lay, there could be no other explanation.

He felt bemused for he could imagine nothing that the Elvenking could have done to seed such anger in one of his own, even less could he imagine anything that he would have done. A king of men, or even dwarfs, might abuse one in her position in many ways but such things were alien to the minds and manners of the first born, and, king though he undoubtably was, Thranduil was above all things an elf.

But seeing this sudden change and hearing her tone he could understand why the king could not trust her fate to the forgiveness of his people. For looking at her now her demeanour did indeed speak of a deep anger that was close to hatred. If this had been her stance in that alley in Dale the he had no doubt that only his sword at her throat had prevented his guard from dealing out summary execution in the snow.

He watched her closely, saying nothing but taking in the arrogant tilt of her head, the cold hardness of her gaze and the quirk of her mouth that was so close to a sneer, and wondered again if this was the enemy at work. But, as before, he could not feel that particular malice that was the dark ones marker. Which left him with a hard decision, did he assume that she was more than usually adept at hiding that malice or that it was some other force motivated her so powerfully?

Yet that decision was for later, for now he had another to make and one he was not prepared for; her challenge must be answered in some way but being expected he had not planned how he might reply to it. Yet perhaps he should have done so for Thranduil's people were quick and clever and as a guard she had been trained not to give up easily. Moreover the question, if not the manner of its asking, was a fair one given their conversation. That being so perhaps there was little reason to assume any evil was behind it, for, considering all that had happened that day, had his own actions in seeking the Elvenking's help been so very different from hers? Perhaps it had not been, not in some ways, on the surface, yet in other, deeper, ways they were a considerable distance apart. Maybe it was asking too much of her to see the differences in their actions for herself, they both wanted to warn the dwarfs and given that she would discern no difference in nature of their requests. A sudden insight broke his confusion and he hid a smile, of course, and in her angry simplicity she would see that as marking her deed as right! Just as she had then, thinking of nothing more than her own desire and no further than her wish to see the bold eyed dwarf safe. For her the king's refusal to aid her in achieving that wish was nothing more than cold hearted cruelty.

But the truth was that nothing is ever that simple, and certainly not in the middle of a battle.

He heaved an inward sigh for the matter was laced with pitfalls and if they were to talk more on this matter he must be on his guard against assuming his own regret and grief were also hers. For it was clear now, in this unguarded moment, that her view of her own actions was peculiar for an elf and for one who was a guard; clear too that there was something deeply amiss in her relationship with Thranduil. What was less clear was the degree to which those two strands were intertwined.

For a moment longer he was silent, watching her through the haze of his pipe smoke, wondering how best to reply. It was not an easy choice; should he refuse to answer, wave the question away, or turn the challenge back on her, then again should he answer it honestly? If he chose the latter course would that help him decide upon her guilt or otherwise, and if she were guilty would any answer he gave provide some future benefit to Sauron? If he turned it away then how much insight into her thoughts and loyalties would he lose? He continued to stare at her in frowning silence as he weighed his course of action, noting that the hard line of her mouth and angry glitter in her eye did not change under his gaze, while all the time wishing that he had given more thought to the possibility of such a question on the way here.

In the end he decided that there was nothing to be lost by answering truthfully and perhaps something significant to be gained. If she felt herself not to be so alone in her fault he might see more into what had driven in her to desertion and treachery in the days before the battle, and perhaps a hint of why she had set an arrow at her king. Yes, answering her truthfully might give them a little common ground, though he would not pretend any forgiveness for her, nor would he belittle the difference in their actions. Nor would he hide the truth of what they both had done, the errors they had made, that day.

Yet his own pain and guilt regarding the matter had not entirely disappeared and he did not want to speak of this, and so it was with a deep frown and the look of one biting on something sour that he replied.

"Thranduil is great king and a kindly lord and neighbour, why would I wish his death? I have already told you that I would deem his loss a great blow to his Realm and also to the men of the Lake and Dale for he is an important force in this area and pivotal in its security and prosperity. I would never seek any harm for him. As for our importuning of him being the same, well it is true that we both sought the same action, that he would send an elven company to Ravenhill, but there the likeness between our interventions ends, or so I believe. If you do not see the difference, and it seems you do not, then I will explain it willingly."

He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and uncomfortable they were too! When he started speaking it was slowly as if each word was being weighed before it was uttered.

"It is true that I asked him to send warning to Thorin on Ravenhill when I heard the news of Bolg's approach, but I did not demand it nor did I seek to command him as you did, and I did not do it with an arrow levelled at him or with any other compulsion. Nor did I treat him with anger and contempt when he denied me, nor seek to belittle his reply, for he is a king and he had many considerations to balance in his decision. This I knew, and though I was disappointed at his response and had hoped for something else I understood the cause of it."  
He drew a deep breath his frown becoming close to a scowl, yet he spoke softly  
"But you are right that my request was in all but tone the same as that you later demanded, and I was as wrong in requesting it as you were in demanding it."

Even as he answered his mind was slipping back into the past, to that ruined city with the snow flying and the sounds of battle sitting shrill and terrible upon a wailing wind. Back to the moment of his realisation of what he had done, to the understanding of an unforgivable fault on his part.

It had come to him in the moment he had watched Bilbo Baggins set off to carry his warning to Ravenhill. Gandalf remembered his own thoughts and feelings at the hobbits actions as well as if had been just a day that had passed. First there came horror at the very suggestion that he should go, then the outrage at the idea of it and the bitter certainty of his burglar's death. He had tried to stop Bilbo leaving but the hobbit had prevailed taking no more time in argument simply turning away and disappearing out of sight, as he disappeared there came upon him a desperate fear and a sense of helplessness and loss. For a moment he had been frozen he recalled, almost overwhelmed by his sorrow and regret. Bilbo had gone to warn Thorin and he would probably not come back.

Then, from nowhere, had come a sudden realisation of what had just happened, of what he had done, and it had robbed of all breath and thought for a moment. He heard his own words come back to him, the words spoken as the hobbit had asked why he should not go, words hard and angry and that exposed so very clearly his expectation of what would happen to those who went to Ravenhill, 'because they will kill you'. Bilbo would move quickly and quietly he knew, slipping from shadow to shadow like the burglar he had named him, and yet he had not expected him to survive mounting the Watchtower and he had grieved for it. Without any warning, and before he could think about what to do next, there came a small cold voice in his head. 'But that risk of death did not stop you from seeking from the Elvenking a whole company to warn the dwarfs, many if not all of whom would probably share the fate of that hobbit'. The words cut through the clamour of the wind and halted him where he stood.

He recalled that he had stared up at the leaden sky reeling at the bitter insight that though he knew fear and regret for the hobbit he had felt none of that for the elves he would have had sent on the errand in that hobbits place. No wonder their king had been so bitterly angry, for in that dark moment the wizard had understood that he had sought to buy Thorin's warning, a dwarf he knew well and who had set upon this course, with the blood of others, and with no counting or balancing of the cost. How many would have died in the attempt to warn that few upon the Watchtower, and had he given that a single moment of thought?

"I have spilled enough elven blood in defence of this accursed place" He heard Thranduil's words again, no mistaking the pain within them, and the knife of grief and regret had bitten deeper into him. For of all those present that day only the Elvenking had seemed to feel grief for those who had been lost as the battle raged. Only to him had they seemed something more than pawns to be moved to an advantage. Later he would know that was not a true assessment, for Bard would deeply mourn his losses, as would Dain, but at that moment the gulf between his own conduct and Thranduil had seemed vast and simple.

For uncounted moments that understanding had taken all heart from him, he had felt old and tired and leaning back against a broken wall he had gone on staring at the skies and wondering at himself. He had demanded that Thranduil send his elves into danger so easily and with so little hesitation and yet when one he valued had offered freely to do the same he had felt only outrage at the idea of it. Yet why should he, it could not be for any more doubt about the outcome for the truth was that a warning required no more than one to carry it, nor any great military skill, so why not the hobbit?

As his fear and sorrow for the hobbit vibrated within him it had occurred to him to wonder why, what was the difference? Had he truly judged the lives of those elves of less importance than a hobbit, of less value than a dwarf who would be a king of a mountain of gold? Or was it because the elves the king sent would have been faceless and nameless to him, hidden behind their armour, where as his burglar was not? Or had it been because he could consider the death of those elves as being on their king's head not his own? Either way the answer was cowardice and that realisation had filled him with a shame that still had not left him. He had resolved in that moment never to err in such a way again.

Nearly eight turns of the year later and still that picture was engraved in his memory, and its power to shame him did not abate, and sometimes on dark nights it came back to him to haunt his sleep. As he remembered it now he wondered if that was why she had found it so easy to demand the king sent her comrades to risk all for for her dwarf, because she shared that same cowardice, because by doing so she could lay the responsibility for what ever came of it on the king she seemed to hate, further strengthening her belief in her own virtue?

Her voice, suddenly grown strident called him back to the present.  
"Wrong? How was it wrong? You too knew that those on Ravenhill would die if they were not warned."  
He sighed and looked at her with grief in his eyes.  
"Did ? Perhaps, but if I did then I also accepted the probability that those sent to warn him would also be killed. Would that sacrifice have saved Thorin and his nephews? I do not know, nor did I then. A grand gesture some might say and yet it was cowardice on my part for I sought to pass on the responsibility for their fates, the responsibility for their success or failure, for their very deaths, to another. As, also, did you. I have sworn I will not do that again."  
He saw the anger in her eyes grow but gave her no chance to challenge him or justify her actions instead continuing as if he had seen nothing.  
"Like you I could have gone alone to warn them, but I did not. Bilbo did not hesitate. Instead I, we, demanded others be sent into the danger and that another took the responsibility for sending them"

Her anger was now almost palpable and her voice as she replied was close upon a snarl.  
"But why should he not? Were the lives of the dwarfs of less value than his?"  
Gandalf's look sharpened and he spoke in a musing tone.  
"Then you did expect him to go, or why else should the value of his life come into the matter?"  
She drew back as if he had prodded her with a sharp stick and coloured slightly.  
"I do not recall thinking that." Her voice was cold but there was worm of unease wriggling in it.  
The wizard shrugged.  
"Perhaps you did not but is that of any account? Were the lives of your dwarf and his companions of more worth than those we both knew would die in warning them? You seem to have judged them so, as maybe I did in my error."  
She gave him a look of angry outrage.  
"That is not so! I made no such judgement." She saw his sceptical look and hurried on. "Nor do I regret trying to save the dwarfs from slaughter."

He gave her a narrowed eyed look at that.  
"Did you seek to try and save them? Is that truly the case? If Legolas had not said he would go with you, as I am told he did, would you have considered taking the risk yourself as the hobbit did? You gave no sign of it. Legolas gave you no way out of the task once he had spoken but until that moment you had demonstrated no intention to carry the message. Yet you would not have been missed from a battle in which you had played no part had you gone when first you learned of the danger, while a whole company most certainly would have been missed. A gesture then for you too, fine words and empty posturing, nothing more it seems, on both our parts."

The fury in her was now driving out all restraint and he knew her next words would be another hot denial, so he gave her no time to make it.  
"A gesture as I said and yet for what gain? Would Bolg have attacked Ravenhill when he arrived, I did not know, no more did you. Even if he did Thorin had chosen his course of action freely, the others went with him by love of king or kin or both. But that would not have been so for those ordered on a pointless act for another's' wish. For love of their king his company would have obeyed his command but they must have wondered at that command and why he sent them into danger for so little gain when all about them battle raged both in the city and on the plain."

"Pointless! You say that saving them would have been pointless, you who sent them here!" The words came out as steam from a fast boiling kettle.  
He nodded ignoring her bitter tone.  
"Yes, I say now that I was wrong in my request to send an elven company up Ravenhill, as we both wished King Thranduil to do, I say now that it would have been pointless, though I did not see that when I made the request."  
"You say that you were wrong!"  
There was disbelief in her voice and he realised that her earlier repentance for her actions was far from being complete. He sighed and looked at her with open sorrow.  
"Yes I was wrong, to ask it, and also mistaken in the value of such an act. Pointless it would have been for if Thorin was in any place where he could be warned he would have also been able to see the advancing hoard and to take measures to conceal himself."  
He saw the scorn and denial in her face and he sighed again, was it that she didn't understand or that she could not allow herself to do so? For the understanding would be as bitter for her as it had been for him.

His mind slipped back in time again recalling the feeling of cold that had nothing to do with the flying snow as he had set off after Thranduil down the ruined street calling on him to him to reconsider, to send a few skilled scouts who might move more quickly if a company could not be spared. The Elvenking had ignored him, seemed not hear him, instead conferring with his guard as his long strides took him further and further away. In the end the wizard recalled that, unable to put aside his anxiety for the hobbit despite his recent doubts, shouted at the retreating king  
"Can you spare no one? Surely you can find one or two. Why will you not give any help, did Thorin insult you so terribly?"

The Elvenking had turned in bitter exasperation at that.  
"As I said before the mountain, Oakenshield was mad, only a fool sets store by the insults of the mad."  
"Why will you not give them any aid then?" the memory of Bilbo drove him to demand.  
Thranduil had stared down at the fast whitening ground.  
"Have you ever fought in a battle such as this Gandalf, against such a foe?" he had asked wearily  
Gandalf recalled that he had stared at the king for a moment then shook his head and replied.  
"No, I have not. How could I have done so, there have been no such confrontations in this age. But what does that matter!  
The armoured shoulders of the king rose and fell in a deep and sorrowful sigh  
"I have fought in such battles before and you may believe me when I say that it matters because you are thinking only of what you wish to do and not what the enemy will do. Nor what is best for the fight."

There had been a moment of silence as he had drawn closer to the elf king and his guard, the voice inside his head began mocking him again, 'listen, put aside your own grief and listen'.  
"What do you mean?" he had asked.  
Thranduil had sighed again and spoke slowly  
"There is a little time before Bolg can be here, not as much as would be wished but some. In that time we must make our plans. In that time matters on Ravenhill may change, though I doubt that you know what they are now."  
Gandalf recalled that he had shrugged, but also that he had felt a sudden sinking in his stomach for it was no less than the truth.

Thranduil was still staring at the snow as he continued.  
"But even assuming Bolg's army arrives soon, though Gundebad is far away, Ravenhill is built as a place of watching and so Oakenshield and his companions will be well placed to see them long before they are here, As for Bolg, what will he do when he arrives? If this has been planned, as you maintain it has, then he will be acting under Asog's order and will believe Ravenhill to be already in their possession, for such was their plan and it is there they set their command. They know we do not have the force to oppose them both on the plain and in the city and also storm those heights and so they have no reason to believe their dominion there is ended. Their plan was to divide our forces and for the moment they have succeeded and as such Ravenhill will be of little interest to them. As for those already fighting, well I doubt any had the leisure to see Oakenshield set off for the place, or to tell others if they had. No, Bolg will arrive with his force, so you say, and with the object of taking the mountain and its contents. His will seek to destroy us, elves, men and dwarfs, as quickly as he may."

Gandalf recalled how the fear had eaten into him at the mention of Bolg and he wondered what Bilbo was doing as they stood her conversing in the cold, it had got the better of him again and he pressed Thranduil further.  
"What you say may be true but how does that matter? Why should they not be warned?"  
The king had looked up then containing his exasperation with a visible effort.  
"Provided the dwarf and his kin keep from waving a triumphal banner in his direction, or some other such foolish thing, Bolg will not bother with Ravenhill until he has secured his objective, us defeated, dead or enslaved, and the mountain and its treasure his. Until then his eyes will remain fixed upon the plain and the mountain. Only the war bats might see it differently but I doubt they will know to look, or understand what they see if they do, if this was indeed planned then they will have been kept hungry ready for the battle and their interest will only be in the blood already being spilled."  
The wizard remembered how the image of the hobbit cowering beneath those bats had risen in his mind and he had replied angrily.  
"You cannot be sure of that."  
The king had shrugged.  
"Nothing is certain in war but even if Bolg were to look up what would he see? Very little I would wager. There are many places for Oakenshield and his companions to seek refuge and remain hidden, the dwarf is small and Ravenhill is high and Orc eyesight is not as good as elves. Of course if they have already engaged with Asog then no manner of warning will save them. But they will be safe from the new forces, certainly safer than we are, unless Bolg's attention is drawn to an enemy presence on Ravenhill, "he gave the wizard a hard look, "which a company of elves in armour most certainly would do."

There had been another moment of silence Gandalf recalled before he had answered.  
"Oh, I see."  
The hard look on Thranduil's fair face did not soften.  
"Do you? Yet it does not change your mind I can see it in your eyes, but now is not the time to consider why that is. I will say nothing more on the matter other than if you must warn the dwarf then it must be by stealth for the sake of all, and not by force. Yet if the dwarf still lives, and if he is any kind of warrior, I see little point in a warning for I do not doubt that he will see Bolg's approach as soon as any could reach him with it. Ravenhill is a watchtower after all and its purpose is to allow its occupants to see over distance and give early warning of invaders."

Gandalf recalled how the anger had surged through him then, anger at himself and not only for his continued demands, or his desire to have Thranduil take responsibility for Thorin's plight, but anger that he hadn't though about it as a leader should and so Bilbo had risked himself for nothing

He looked at her and for the first time wondered if things would have turned out differently if she had stopped to think, or had asked her king why he would not help, rather than following her own feeling and need. It would be painful for her to consider but he was not of a mood to allow her part to pass unremarked.

"Which is, of course, just what did happen." He said softly. "You provoked Legolas to another empty gesture and you and he set off for Ravenhill with fire in your blood and no thought of stealth or of the consequences. You because of the dwarf, and him because of you. Both blinded by your own desires and yearning, by your own weakness. There was no care in your leaving Dale or in your approach to Ravenhill and as a result Bolg's attention was captured and we know what followed from it. How bitter must that moment have been for Thranduil when Legolas said he would go with you and his father knew what would follow from it. Perhaps you find pleasure in that but I cannot. Thorin may well have died regardless but would others still live if you had not done as you did".

"I wanted him to live." She said in a small voice though the hard look was still upon her face. "I did not think of more than that. Nor do I see how that was wrong."  
She slumped and the arrogance of a moment before seeped away, the sorrow in her once more coming to the fore.  
"Why would the king not help, why did he speak to me as he did, of how they would die anyway?"  
Gandalf sighed.  
"Because it was the truth; and he was in the middle of a battle that might end more than a dwarfs life. He knew they had made their choices and why, unlike you and me he is indeed a warrior and if you had asked him I think he would have said that he respected those choices. As for your hopes, well he knew too that there could be no future for you with a dwarf. Nor could there be, for he would die in little more than a blink or two of an elf's eye, and there would not even be children to keep your grief at bay."  
She shook her head.  
"Perhaps. Today, tomorrow, or a hundred years. What does it matter, they are mortal. That is what he said."  
"As I said he spoke nothing other than the truth, hard though it might seem, he sought to bring you back to who you had been, though perhaps his manner of speaking was a little brutal. But then as I have said he was in the midst of a battle he had not sought, nor even anticipated."

Memory overtook him again and he shook his head in sadness.  
"At that time he was outnumbered by the enemy, with many dying to keep the evil at bay, with the blood of your kin staining the snow and the piles of bodies mounting, time was short and perhaps he thought your sensibilities counted for little, and their death would be just a few more on an already terrible tally. Nor can you say he was wrong in what he said. Given what was happening all around him why should their deaths matter more than any other? Men were dying in the City, Dain's dwarfs were dying on the Plain, Elves' were dying in both, so why did those few dwarf deaths on Ravenhill matter so very much? Why was saving them worth others dying?" He said dryly.  
"They did matter." There was the hint of anger again.  
Curiosity surged in him.  
"More than all the rest? Why, because you wished one of the saved for your own? Was it that that set your hand upon the arrow? That he did not consider what you felt, and the one you felt it for, to be more important than all else?"

"No!" The denial was swift but for a moment that shadow he had sensed before slid through her eyes. "But I could not let him do nothing when they were in danger."  
"No more danger than those fighting in the city or at the foot of the mountain though, and with more chance of avoiding it. A danger of their choice and making too." he said mildly. "Would you dishonour their actions by holding them ill thought through or reckless? I wonder what Thorin would have said had someone suggested that he needed elves be sent to warn him."  
She gave him a disdainful look.  
"I do not know what Oakenshield would have thought. Or those who followed him."  
'Nor do you care, but for one,' the wizard reflected.  
"The king spoke of them as if they were not worth his notice; as if they mattered less because they were mortal. I would not allow him to turn away again," she continued, "How could any defend that, even you?"

The memory of that day surged into the wizards mind, Bilbo setting off alone up Ravenhill without hesitation, of Bard and his people falling back before the onslaught leaving some far younger than her dwarf lying in the snow, and of Thranduil with orc blood on his face and his sword and with grief in his eyes. Now rage stirred in the wizard and he seemed to grow, his presence filling the room, his expression hardened to stone, his eyes becoming back stars, even his voice altered; all the power and authority of an Istari echoing in it.  
"Turn away you say, from what did he seek to turn away you foolish child? Thranduil came into the city to defend it, he brought elves into the city to defend it, and he risked himself, his life, to defend it. To defend men, who are as much mortal as any dwarf. How then can you say he judged them worthless because of their mortality? Did you do half as much? Except for the one you wished for that is. Except for that one did you risk anything at all? Was that bow of yours ever drawn to defend a fleeing man or an elf about to be overpowered? Did you spend any arrows in helping or protecting those around you as you had sworn to do? I doubt it, for you had arrows enough to threaten your king. Did you as much as draw a blade in the time between arriving from Gundebad and accosting the king? If so then tell me where and for whom."

She looked away as if unable to meet the fire burning in his eyes.  
"No, I confess that is the case and I know that it might be seen as lacking in honour."  
"Might be seen as! How could it be seen any other way, there were skirmishes everywhere it must have been hard for you to miss them! You were a guard, and armed, any elf would have expected help from you, how many did you disappoint and leave to their fate!"  
She shook her head, pain in her eyes.  
"I know this and it never leaves me. But there was no time! I had to find the king and get help for the dwarfs on Ravenhill!"  
He nodded with bitter humour  
"So you stayed safely away from the battle until you found him conferring with his guard. Legolas too I suspect, him with the desire of helping you. No wonder he left immediately, no wonder he couldn't face riding back to the forest with his father's host. How that must eat at him still. Indeed I know that it does. Like me he has sworn that will never occur again. Have you?"  
She swallowed hard and shook her head.  
"As I have said it never leaves me. Do not think I have gone unpunished or that the penance given me by the king is the only one I serve. But I swear to you there was no evil in my heart when I sought a warning for them, nor was there any intention to kill the king."  
The wizard gave a small smile.  
"Oh I think there was evil in your heart, I cannot see how that can be denied, evil towards the one who had been as a father to you, in whose house you had been given refuge, and who was your king. Evil and a lack of care for all but the one that interested you. But that is a matter for you to face and I cannot help you with that. My only concern is whether the evil was less personal than that."

Tauriel sighed softly.  
"If there was such evil then I am punished for it as I have said."  
She pulled a stone token from her pocket and held it out towards him with some reluctance and confusion in her face. She spoke softly sounding on the edge of tears.  
"This is a copy of one that he gave me, the King made me hand that back to his mother who had given it to him. I carry this in his memory but that is all there is to remind me, for I find that I can no longer hear his voice or see his face. He gave his life because of me and I saw it happen and yet I cannot remember the look on his face as he died. I am an elf, the years that have passed are as nothing to me and yet the memory of the one who gave me this has already deserted me. This is my punishment for by it I know that for all I did and said, and for all it cost, my love was not real. I also understand that the king knew this and his words to me atop Ravenhill were kindness and no more. A kindness that perhaps I did not deserve. This knowledge I must bear until Arda is remade."

He looked at her in silence turning her words over in his mind. If she spoke truly then she was no servant of the shadow for they would harbour no such thought or grief. Yet her words may be just that, words and she had shown herself to be practiced in fine but empty words. Yet it was not a device he would have expected such a servant to use. He let his mind wander towards her again and all he felt was loss. He shook his head and the fire disappeared from his face and his voice.  
"Very well," he said wearily, "I think we have said all that is needed for the moment. Go about your business as you have done since the battle but take care to heed the king's warning, for Dain might yet seek you out to pay for the injury he considers you inflicted upon his line."  
She nodded.  
"He has mentioned this to me and though I do not understand the offence I will observe his strictures. But what of you my lord, what is your verdict upon me? What will you counsel the king to do? Or do you have more questions for me to answer?"  
"No more questions for now. I need to smoke a pipe or two over the things you have already told me. After that I may have more to ask you, or I may not. Go now and rest, in time we may speak again though perhaps not until I return to Dale again."  
She nodded and rising she bent her head in salute and left.

He watched her go with a heavy heart.


	28. Chapter 28

This is getting too long again so this seems a good place to break it. More retrospective in this I'm afraid – sorry.

To those who were kind enough to comment on the last chapter - thank you and apologies for not replying as yet but I've been having serious problems with both my email and this site.

P

 **Uneasy choice**

Afternoon had slid towards evening, the sky had darkened and Gandalf had refilled his pipe twice in the time he sat thinking about his meeting with the elf Tauriel and what he could deduce from it.

A haze of smoke had settled around him and the frown had never left his brow since she had departed so heavy were his thoughts. Her leaving had been quiet and dignified, the spurt of angry defiance apparently spent, and she was once again the elf who had first stepped through the door. Yet he felt no satisfaction at the conversation or the manner of its ending, for he had promised Thranduil an answer as to her allegiance and now, after all the words they had traded, all the grief they had revisited, he found that he had no answer to give.

For he knew he needed to be sure, had expected to be sure, and found that he wasn't.

There was no doubt what the Elvenking must do if he reported that the darkness had taken her; for the sake of all he would have no choice but to act, and, at the very least reckoning, her future from that time onwards would lie behind a locked door in the most secure part of the kings Halls. Gandalf did not underestimate what that action would cost and he was loath to cause the king so much grief without being sure. But nor did he doubt the risks that would come from leaving her free if she was so tainted. Though she was but one, and a lowly one in the scheme of things, if she was in Sauron's service then she was also a dangerous one. She knew too many of the secrets of the Elvenking's careful security for comfort, and, darkness or no, she had already shown herself willing to put the needs of her people aside in the furtherance of her own desires. If it came to war, as he feared it would eventually, when Sauron had grown in strength, her knowledge might prove the rock on which the Woodland realm foundered. If it fell then there would be no other defence against Sauron's dark forces, or the easterlings, between here and Imladris, or even as far as the Shire.

Yet, though the consequences of allowing her to remain free by his error could be great, if he were honest was he willing to make such a claim without far greater certainty than he currently felt?

He would not again push aside the responsibility for unpalatable action, he had spoken nothing more than the truth when he had told her had sworn that to himself in Dale, but to condemn her to so harsh a fate without much more reason than he had would be more than cruelty, however great her past transgressions.

His pipe was growing cold again and he took a moment to fumble in his robe for his pouch of pipeweed sighing as he refilled the bowl and drew hard to coax a flame. His mind drifted back and forth as he did so roving over all he had heard of the things he had not seen that day, and he had gone to some effort to discover them, yet the picture remained incomplete, and often the gaps in those reports involved Tauriel. He sighed again, and as a consequence of that they also involved Legolas. But he had a strong feeling that it was in that time that he would find the answer he needed.

Gandalf puffed on the pipe again feeling the bowl warm within his hand as he let the memory of that day of battle wash over him like the fog of pipe smoke.

Thranduil had led his forces out of Dale without a word to him after that last conversation about Ravenhill. He saw the Elvenking speak briefly to Bard before gathering his Elf Lords beneath his banner and leading them out through the broken walls of the city towards the bridge. At their captains command his companies followed him rejoining the battle on the plain as the word of the new enemy began to spread. The king had not so much as given a backward glance and the wizards last view of the Thranduil had been a shaft of sun glinting on his golden head and silver crown as he stepped out to face the enemy once more. Gandalf had followed more slowly with Bard and the remaining men at arms from Laketown but Bard had said nothing of his conversation with the king. By the time they reached the bridge the quick footed elvish companies had crossed it and were out of sight and already in the thick of the battle.

If the earlier fight had been horrible this new conflict was terrible.

The first wave of the enemy newcomers had overrun even the remnants of their own in their hurry for blood. The bats that came with them had turned the sky above the battle plain black as night as they wheeled like drifting thunder clouds looking for injured and dying to feed upon. The king's companies had moved to reinforce the elves still fighting on the plain and shore up the dwarf defence that was, in truth, almost spent; had the elves not returned when they did then Dain and his warriors would have been slaughtered. Both Thranduil and Dain had fought as if possessed, each of them understandimg that more than just the fate of the mountain hung in the balance. The Elvenking had come to the mountain knowing how much grief an unsecured hoard of gold might bring to his lands only to see that grief materialise before him, he and the dwarf lord would have no doubt that should they lose here then their people would have no hope of survival. To lose this battle was to lose all.

The elves were skilled fighters, disciplined, resilient and with a deep and abiding hatred of all the works of Sauron, and orc especially, and they gave no quarter holding off impossible odds. Dain's dwarfs were his most skilled warriors each one a veteran of the goblin wars and they too fought as if each knew what depended upon it, ignoring injury and weariness to keep their lines intact and the fight alive. Yet as Gandalf had followed Bard into the fray he had known that there was little hope of victory. Bard chose to reinforce one of the elvish flanks and Gandalf had joined him, sparing a moment to wonder at the fate of the hobbit before the fight drove all such thoughts away, from that point his only concern being staying alive. As the battle raged and still the enemy kept coming he had no time to think of Thorin other than to briefly admit the truth of Thranduil's words, Thorin and his companions were almost certainly safer on Ravenhill than those who fought at the foot of the mountain.

They would have lost, been overwhelmed despite the skill of the warriors, had the eagles not arrived when they did. He could admit that to himself now, though it had taken some time for him to face it.

Thranduil had eventually called his companies to him and left the plain leading much of his host into the foothills of the mountain for they were agile and quick even in armour and their enemy were not, it slowed the rate of the assault and gave the elvish force more chance to capitalise upon their skills. It also gave their king sight of the battle plain and forewarning of the direction from which his enemy might attack. But that position meant that it was to his forces that the eagles first gave aid, scattering the war bats and sweeping down to catch the climbing orcs, carrying them high and then dropping them onto their advancing own. Once the orc stopped climbing to meet the elves then the eagles began long sweeping forays on the enemy flanks, beak and talons spearing throat and eye. Thranduil gave the order for his remaining archers on the mountain to pick off orc bowmen, providing some protection for the Windlords kin from orc arrows, whilst he and his sword and spearmen descended once more to reinforce the now wavering dwarf lines.

But they would have lost had the windlord not entered the fray when he did. The knowledge of that never left some part of Gandalf's mind; and he was resolved that he would not be caught so poorly prepared and unaware again. Only the thought of what might have been the outcome had Smaug been seduced to assist the growing army of orc eventually reconciled him to his part in the matter. But he knew even then that some part of the guilt he earned that day would never leave him until he returned across the Sea

However the Windlord, who was better informed than wizards it seemed about the comings and going in the mountains, and who shared the elf view of orc, did come and they were not overtaken, but of the three thousand that had numbered the elven host that marched here nigh on seven hundred were dead or seriously injured and there were few at all who escaped unscathed. Not even their king who had proved so skilled at defeating orc swords, he had left the battlefield with a nasty warg bite to his hip and thigh got whilst dispatching its rider, though Gandalf had not found that out until they left Dale. As for the dwarfs, of the five hundred or so warriors who had come into the valley with Dain close on three hundred never returned to the Iron hills, and like the elven force there were few who were uninjured. Dain himself had a deep and bloody gash in his head. The men of the lake fared no better, Bard survived but many of those who stood with him did not.

They prevailed, none would use the word won for such a calamity. What little comfort there was lay strangely enough in the size of the enemy force, for having seen it both Thranduil and Dain knew that the death of Smaug had only hurried the confrontation, that it would have come to them soon enough, and the outcome then might have been yet more terrible still. For a while now their lands and kin would be safe, for despite its great size the orc army had been poorly trained and far from disciplined and it suffered even greater losses, both in the battle and in the pursuit of them that followed. Few of the dark lords' creatures survived that day and Sauron would have to wait for his war a little longer.

But throughout that terrible day and into the evening afterwards he had seen nothing of Tauriel or Legolas and, as far as he knew, neither of them had played any part in the fight. He had little leisure to wonder at it, but as the battle faltered and as the scattered forces of the enemy were pursued by the elves, dwarfs and eagles Gandalf wondered at their absence. Everything he knew of the prince said Legolas would fight at his father's side, leading some of the companies himself rather than allowing the whole burden of managing the battle to fall upon his sire. Yet it seemed that he had been wrong in that assumption for as the melee thinned and banners could once more be seen flapping in the wind there had been no sign of him. Gandalf had sat down upon a rock and watched Thranduil from a distance looking on in sadness as the Elvenking had surveyed the battlefield alone, knowing what grief soaked memories were being added to those he already carried. As he watched the king's silent progress from one dead elf to the next he almost wished that he had never sought Thorin out, wished that he had come to Thranduil for help in the first place. The king of the wood might have driven a hard bargain on the matter but once convinced of the need to act his care for the consequences, and his sanity, could have been relied upon.

Finally, when the Elvenking had ceased his perambulations and returned to his Lords, Gandalf had stirred himself and made his way slowly down toward the king's banner. There he stood in unusual silence and watched as the king conferred on the help needed by the injured and the removal of the dead, and then again as he met with Dain and Bard to discuss the plight of the helpless in the city. The elves ignored his presence on the fringes of the group, attending to their sad business as if he was not there. Then as the sun sank towards the edge of the horizon, and without a word to any, the king had turned away and gone out onto the battlefield to a point where too many of his spearmen had fallen; here he fell to his knees, raised his eyes towards the early stars of evening and began the first lament for the dead, his lone voice somehow filling the air with such beautiful sound that Gandalf felt the tears pricking at his eyes. Across the battle plain the elves fell silent for a moment before also kneeling and taking up the song, it seemed but moments later that the dwarfs began their own lament, the two songs so different and yet so similar as the valley filled with the sound of grief. Bard and his men had stood in silence beside the Elvenking's banner listening to the song with red rimmed eyes and pain filled faces.

It had been as the last echoes of the elvish lament had echoed around the valley that Gandalf realised there was still no sign of Legolas, and not long after that he had seen Thranduil riding at breakneck speed towards Ravenhill.

With no sign of Bilbo Baggins on the plain Gandalf returned to the city to look for him, and it was here that he first learned of the fate of Thorin and his nephews. His grief at the news had been great and the only consolation that both Bolg and Asog had also perished on Ravenhill, 'let us hope they both remain dead this time' he found himself thinking bitterly. It was not long after that he heard the first word of Bilbo, that the hobbit was alive and unharmed, but his relief was short lived for it was then that he heard the first reports of Legolas. They made little sense to him, for they placed the prince on Ravenhill and he could not see how that could be. As the rumours grew more certain so did his unease for it seemed that while both Legolas and Tauriel had played their parts in the death of Bolg their participation had ended there and they had taken no part in the battle on the plain or in the city at all. That was the moment when Gandalf had first realised that more might have been broken that day than he had known, for he could think of nothing good that would have taken the prince from his people's side at such a time.

Yet it had been many hours later that he had discovered just how much damage had been done, and for so little.

While the elves, men and eagles were still hunting down the fleeing enemy he had gone about the town seeking out information on those things he had not witnessed. Most of all he wanted to know the fate of his burglar, for there was still no sign of him and no further word had come to explain his continued absence. He would have set off for Ravenhill himself but the muttering amongst the elvish warriors in the city were growing louder and more belligerent and as the name of both Legolas and Tauriel were being mentioned he remained in Dale seeking more news.

It had taken some time and a visit to a healers' tent to discover the reasons for the mutterings. There he had found an elf of the Kings Guard, one who had been at Thranduils back when Tauriel confronted him, having an orc arrow removed from her leg. She had known the wizard was in the king's confidence and that, coupled with her pain and the medications already given, loosened her tongue a little more than might otherwise have been the case. She had known nothing of the hobbit when he asked but she had known of the confrontation in the alley and why Legolas had gone to Ravenhill. As he had waited for the healers' attentions she had spoken long and bitterly to him, her voice low but the tone of it cold and angry. Her report of the matter was clear enough, it did not allow for Tauriels action to be anything other than deliberate. Nor did she hide how the prince had responded, which, if more widely known, explained much of the simmering anger in the elvish camp.

"We should have shot her where she stood, and would have done so had it been a man or dwarf who held that bow. But she was one of our own and to kill another elf is hard even under such circumstances, and at first I at least did not quite believe what I was seeing. She said something strange too, something that made no sense, about 'turning away' and that distracted me, for the king has never turned away from her, or from any other that I know of, and I wondered at her babble. It was not that long I hesitated but it was too long had the king had been in real danger, and I feel some shame at that.  
She shook her head at the memory, a momentary pain crossing her face.  
"Still I do not understand it. Neither her nor the prince. How could she threaten her king, one who had been her protector all her life and how could the prince support her after it? Though few know of it the king even tried to rescue her from the consequences of her own foolish actions by allowing his son to seek her out at her desertion. Yet she spoke to him with such hatred and I was unable to believe at first that she was truly doing what she seemed to be."

She looked away as if seeing those events again, moments that would never leave her.  
"But the look on her face left no doubt of her intent, she was willing to kill him, and as the disbelief left me I reached for an arrow to bring her down. But the king acted first and the danger, the need for us to act, was past. All who stood behind him then are more grateful for his quickness than I can say, for had he not been the warrior that he is then one of us would have had to shoot her and live with that killing of another elf for ever."  
"What of Legolas?"  
The Elf Lord shook her head.  
"I do not know what he was thinking of. But it was clear that he would take her part despite the threats and taunts, and when he turned away it was not to join our beleaguered ranks but to go with her to the watchtower to warn the dwarf."

Gandalf recalled that he had been silent for a moment turning matters over in his mind, for it went against all he knew of elves who valued family and considered loyalty amongst the highest of virtues.  
"Why did she risk it then," he had asked eventually, "for she must have known that you were there, could she not see you behind the king?"  
The lady had shrugged and pain flashed across her face again, though at what he could not be sure.  
"She must have done so, and yet she behaved as if she did not. Perhaps she thought that we would not act against another elf unless the king ordered us to do so. Perhaps she knew that the prince was near and would defend her."  
"But did she not fear the kings own actions? Or was it that she wanted him to act against her for some reason of her own?"  
"I think not. It was as if despite her taunts, the contempt she spat at him, she was sure of his unwillingness to kill her, or have her killed, from the start. From the shock on her face when her bow was splintered it seemed that she had not expected him to act against her in any way at all."  
"That is strange. For why would she think that he would stand there and let her kill him?"  
"I do not know but having seen her face and heard her voice I think she had passed beyond what any elf could explain and that in that moment there was no elf in her at all." She gave a small smile. "Nor could she have known the king as well as she presumed to think she did, certainly not his martial ability, for it was clear she had underestimated the ease with which he could disarm her if he chose to."  
"Yet surely she would have known better?  
The lady shook her head.  
"No. She was a guard but not a warrior, she defended the Halls against the spiders but that was all, she had never trained beside him, and she had never seen true battle and what it takes to survive it."

Gandalf recalled that he had smiled back at her and reached for his pipe only to have a healer take it from his hand with a look of reproof.  
"You have then?" he had asked gently.  
The elf lady had nodded with a sad look.  
"That I have. More than I would wish to be the case. I stood behind King Oropher at that terrible charge when our king was prince and we faced Mordor beside an army of men. I heard the trumpets of Gil-galahad sound across Dagorlad and saw the pennants of the elvish host fly beneath a cloud of war bats and carrion crows. I was one of the too few who survived that first charge, not least because I was in the rear of the company and Prince Thranduil came to aid our retreat. He did not fail us then, even though he had just seen his own father fall, and I cannot think of a time when he has failed us since. He would have given up the crown when he brought the remnants of his father's army home but the people of the Woodland Realm willed that it be otherwise, and we have never had cause to regret it. They say he is the greatest of all the Elvenkings not of the west and though I am not a master of the Lore fitted to pronounce on such matters I cannot think of any reason to dispute the claim. Perhaps that was why I felt such disbelief when she accosted him in that manner, for I could not believe that such as she, who has only ever seen a Realm protected by his wisdom, who knows so little of matters other than the bow and who has never truly seen war, would threaten his life, the Realm, for a dwarf she had known only through the grille of a locked door."

Gandalf had reflected on that for a moment before nodding.  
"It is strange I grant you."  
"Strange, aye, that and more my lord."

What else she considered it to be he didn't hear for their conversation ended there as a healer came to tend to his hurt and had taken him away to wash the wound. But it occurred to him then that something other than a sudden and inexplicable fancy for a very young dwarf might have been behind her actions.

Yet now he found that he was not sure if that was the case at all.

It was true that he had no more understanding of why her fancy had settled upon the dwarf, if it had, now than when he started. He remained convinced that the differences of temper and the weight of history between the two involved were so great that something more than a pretty face would have been needed to inspire any real feeling, on her part at least. Time had been against the development of such a feeling even if Kili's oath to his uncle, a surly and belligerent intruder in the Realm she guarded, had not been. As for why she had deserted her post and followed him, on that she had said nothing to anyone as far as he could see. Thranduil had told him that the only conclusion he could draw from that time was her belief that the dwarf was injured and his dismissal of that possibility, and yet there had been some slight hesitation in the king's voice when he spoke of it that made the wizard wonder if that was truly the only conclusion the king could draw on the matter.

She had not spoken of that in their discussion now he came to think of it, and in his anger at what she had said he had forgone asking. But looking back over her words it seemed to him that there had been very little warmth in her when she mentioned the dwarf. Perhaps her comment about not being able to recall his face explained that, but what explained that lack of memory in an elf?

No, he could not consider the matter of the dwarf explained.

As to the matter of the battle and the confrontation with the king well there her own testimony was not so very different to that given by Thranduils' guard, or what Ferran had told him later; or the king himself later still. Yet none of the reports, not even her own, explained why she did what she did.

He drew a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling pulling together all the impressions of Tauriel that he had gained together. There was something not as it should be with the elf of that he was certain, but then he had known that before he had returned to Dale. Having now spoken to her alone, something he had never done before this day, the extent of that wrongness seemed greater than he had hoped for when had asked King Thranduil's permission to speak with her. He had to admit that he had found the conversation with her frustrating and painful, and not only because of how it had stirred his own memories. Now he realised that it had left him with a sour taste and a lingering sense of unease. Even as she had left the room with the aura of loss and grief once more hanging around her like a heavy cloak he could not forget the anger towards her king that surfaced so readily and with such force. She might regret her actions but that didn't mean that she repented of the intent, and after her last outburst the wizard was no longer sure how much of that regret was for what she did and how much was for the consequences of it. She clearly retained a considerable belief in the virtue of her own actions and he found that he could not judge how she would respond if chance should put another opportunity to harm the king in her path. He didn't think that she would take such a chance, nor even that she would want to, but with given the shadow lurking within her he could not be sure of it. His frown deepened, her words to him were somewhat reminiscent of a child who, when reproved for some transgression, hang their head and said 'I'm sorry' only to finish the sentence with a sigh of perceived injustice and a 'but'.

A flicker on the edge of his mind at the thought suggested to him that he was close to something important but the impression skittered away again like a forest animal suddenly scared by a shift in the wind almost before he realised it was there.

No he could not in all honesty say that he was sure about her, not sure enough given what hung upon his judgement; but nothing he had sensed from her, and nothing she had said, proved that she was a servant of the dark one, only that she harboured some grudge against the king. There was indeed some hint of darkness within her but was it the darkness born of Sauron's influence or some lesser one born only of her? For the moment he thought that he tended towards the latter view, for it did not have the feeling of the dark lord's taint, being smaller in some way and far more specific and personal. Somehow, and he wasn't sure when or why, he had gained the impression that her anger at Thranduil's refusal to send his company to Ravenhill had as much to with him refusing her wish as it had to do with the fate of her dwarf.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. What, then, should he do, what should he report to the king? Here in Dale she was not a risk, at least not for the moment, and perhaps time would shed more light upon the matter. In that time Thranduil would continue to advance the securing of his Realm and eventually her knowledge would be of no use to his enemies whatever her allegiance. Gandalf knew that Thranduil had allowed for this when he permitted her to remain in Dale, just as he knew that such a programme of preparation was already underway within Mirkwood. If Thranduil was willing for both king and prince to visit Dale this summer then those plans must be advanced, and if that were the case perhaps the risk of leaving her here and free to serve her people as she could was not so great.

He looked towards the window and the deepening blue of the sky and sighed again. Time had slipped past more quickly than he had thought and he did not wish to keep the Lord of Dale waiting, he would think no more on the matter until he returned from dinner. He could spare one more day here before he took the road to Erebor and the next difficult conversation, another day to give the matter more thought, and then he would have to make a decision and compose the message to Thranduil. But whatever the outcome he knew that neither of them would, or could, consider the matter of Tauriel finished.

For a moment he wondered if he should delay his other plans and remain here in the north for the summer festival. If he could see her about her duties when the king was in this house perhaps he would be more certain, more comfortable in his choice. But that would mean postponing other matters still further and he feared that he might have already delayed them too long. No, he would leave as planned and trust to the kings' good sense and vigilance.

With that he rose and shook out his robe looking down at himself with a sad smile, he did not doubt that the elves would have found him another robe more in keeping with the evenings entertainment and for once he would sit down with a lord without looking like a vagabond. The smile became fond as he gathered his cloak around him; he did not mind the trouble for this was Thranduil's house after all it would not do at all to come to Lord Bard looking as if the Elvenking could or would not provide for the occasion.

.


	29. Chapter 29

**The king under the mountain**

Gandalf rose with the sun and winced as the bright light of a chilly spring morning infiltrated a head that was ringing like a bell. Thranduil's wine was powerful but good and its after effects were kind, Bard's wine on the other hand was not quite as powerful nor near as good and its after effects were harsh, he had learned that in the days after the battle and he wished he had remembered that lesson at dinner. The number of pipes he had smoked possibly hadn't helped matters but he had sat many hours with Bard when the main meal was finished and with another cup of wine always to hand and a bright fire beside him a full pipe had seemed a natural extension of his rare contentment. Outside the night had turned wet and the sound of rain dripping on the eaves had fostered a sense of being secluded from the world and its difficulties for a while.

Bard's company was easy compared to the elf kings for Gandalf could talk freely without the creeping feeling that he was telling things to someone who already knew them. There was no doubt that even a representative of the Valar could feel themselves to be at a disadvantage when their memory was curtailed and they were speaking to a being who remembered the previous age and talked of past events and hero's from personal experience. Gandalf accepted that those sent to aid the world could not be allowed power over the races of Arda but when faced with any of the remaining great elven lords and ladies he sometimes wished for a little more than he had. Men were much to deal with for there were none amongst them who recalled more of the world than he did. So though he had enjoyed the evening the morning was less pleasurable and he reached for the flagon of water on the table with a sigh, unable even to face the plate of fresh baked elven bread the steward of the house had sent to him.

Gandalf frowned as he tried to recall the talk of the night before. He had broached the matter of Tauriel early in their conversations and before the wine had really begun to flow and so his memory of Bard's words were clear enough. Not that the Lord of Dale had been able to add much, and he had been careful not to disclose his purposes for asking. However Bard knew that she could not return to the forest, knew too that there was some issue with Dain regarding her presence in Dale, and so some question had been natural enough. But Bard had been unable to add anything substancial to Gandalf's own knowledge, he knew nothing of her relationship with her fellow elves and she had few dealings with the men and women of the city as far as he was aware. He had been sure though that no one came to see her though, for all visitors must pass through the sentries house and give account of the reasons for their wish to enter the city and he made it his business to check occassionally. He also knew there was some matter between her and the king's son, but as the prince had only recently returned home he had not seen it to be of any great concern. King Thranduil had assured him it would have no concern for his people and he was happy to accept that.

As the wine had loosened his tongue a little it had become clear that he had heard the rumours of what happened that day, indeed that he knew more than Gandalf had expected him to. Bard, now well used to being the lord of a city, had become grim as he spoke of it and it was clear that he was surprised that the king suffered her to live if they were truth. He had shaken his head at the situation,  
"If she were mortal I have little doubt that she would have been executed as a traitor or as an assassin. I confess that I would be of such a mind if what I have heard is true, but things, it seems are different for elves. I did not think her any threat to us and so I agreed that she might stay here provided she was well supervised and never left to wander at will. If you know differently as to her threat to the townspeople I would have you tell me now and I will ask that she be kept to the kings house alone, or locked away somewhere she can do no harm."  
Gandalf remembered that he too had shaken his head as he responded, if not with the whole truth at least with some of it.  
"No, I have no reason to believe that she is of danger to any man, woman or child in your city and Thranduil would not allow her to remain here if he thought her to be so."  
"So I judge too, As far as my knowledge goes she does as Lord Thranduil has instructed, she completes her duties and remains within the elf kings house for the most part. The only time she sets foot into the wider and more public areas of the city she is in armour and usually accompanied by one or more of her fellow guards."

All as Thranduil had told him in fact.

"Why then does she concern you?" Bard asked as he refilled their wine cups.  
"Dain, my concern is that she might cause some issue with Dain. The enemy is not yet defeated and all need to be allied against the day he is strong enough to challenge the world again."  
"Why so much concern? There has been no sign of orc since the battle, not even in the mountains."  
"So I have heard but that does not mean that the danger has passed. It is true that the orc army has been crushed and the enemy has been banished but I do not think that will prove to be the end of the matter; in time he may grow stronger and seek to threaten us all once again, and, as last time, he may well find supporters in the east and south. Nor will it only be Orc, men may once again be persuaded to his side for it seems that some of them have forgotten the lessons of the past. If this comes to be then your city, the mountain and Thranduil's lands will be threatened with attack, perhaps before any other for they must pass you before they can push west.. "  
Bard's grim look hardened.  
"Aye I know that the Elvenking believes that the dark one will seek power again soon and he has known the enemy long enough that I will trust to his belief. Let us hope it is not so soon that we cannot prepare for it.""Indeed we must, and we must be sure of each other as friends and allies if we are to withstand the threat and so it is important that no estrangement between dwarf, man or elf occurs. I would see no loss of trust between Dain and the Elvenking on her account."  
Bard took a swallow of wine then sighed,  
" Would men truly side with him though for all he can promise them is pain and death?"  
"Some will persuade themselves otherwise if the lure is great enough, and old grudges with elves and dwarfs and the men of the west still linger in some. Others will follow them for reasons of their own. The failure of his promises in the past they blame on his enemies."

Bard was silent for a moment, his eyes drifting over his children and their families with a sad look. Then he drew a deep breath,  
"Aye, hate and the lust for power or wealth can make fools of many. Perhaps that is the lingering legacy of Morgoth to men. I would wish it otherwise but I fear it will remain even when the enemy is defeated. But to return to the elf Tauriel, if Dain knows of her presence he has made no mention of it and there had been no issue involving her with other visiting dwarfs. King Dain's guard are often seen about and many traders come from the mountain to sell their wares but none have asked of her, nor does she seem to be concerned with them. Dain himself rarely visits us but I have entertained him several times since he was crowned and never once has he mentioned her."  
Gandalf smiled, it seemed that Dain had honoured his undertaking in the matter so far. Provided she was not thrust under his nose it appeared that the agreement between him and Thranduil would hold.  
He nodded to Bard.  
"That is good let us hope it remains that way."

Bard shrugged.

"With dwarfs who can tell, but Dain is king now and cannot indulge his whims as once he did if he wishes his Realm to prosper. I will leave things as they are if you are sure she is no danger to my city, but I hope that the Elvenking will not come to regret his forbearance, particularly now his son had returned home."  
"So do I, but I do not think there is much to alarmed about on that score. I have spoken with the Prince on the matter and it clear that he wishes to avoid any further difficulties for his father, and yourself. He will come in the summer but I doubt he will see her, other than as guard."  
"I hope that is the case. I am not clear what the matter between them is, but your concern with Dain suggests a dwarf is also involved. As all will be here in the summer is there anything else that I should do to avoid strife?"  
"No. the dwarf who was concerned is dead, he died on Ravenhill with Thorin, more than that need not be recalled and should you hear more than that I would ask that you forget it."  
"I have heard nothing more, nor am I likely to for such things are too old for gossip now."  
"Good." He looked around him and smiled."No doubt people find plenty of other things to chatter about, they always have."

They had said no more on the matter.

Gandalf took another swallow of water and winced as the bells began to ring the full hour and his head echoed in time with their chimes. Despite his present discomfort he was satisfied with what he had learned last evening, the meeting with Dain might be less difficult than he had feared. He frowned, and this time not at the pain in his head, that did not mean it wold be easy or that there would be no need for him to tread carefully. Dain might have been forced to learn some moderation but the memory of that revelation before Thorin's funeral would no doubt still trouble him and it would be wise to be careful about how he approached the king under the mountain as a result of it. But it seemed that whatever his feeling on the matter he was holding to the agreements of that day, which was cause for hope.

As for Tauriel, well there was nothing more he could do for the moment, he would write the promised letter and hope he had judged wisely. Nor was there any point in delaying further, another day in Dale to recover from Bard's wine and to see and be seen and tomorrow he would set off for the mountain.

He reached for some bread and began to think how best to frame his message.

xxx

"The one called Gandalf is in Dale my lord."

The dwarf before him had bowed low and so Dain could not read the look upon his face, but the voice spoke of unease as if the messenger knew the news would not be welcome.

Dain scowled at the bent head for a moment before replying, but he had learned to mind his temper a little since he became king and no hint of his feelings on the matter could have been read in his voice.  
"Indeed. That is unlooked for. How long has he been there?"  
The dwarf before him, emboldened by the calm tone, risked looking up.  
"A day, no more, or so our informant says. He entered the town at first light yesterday.  
The dwarf king nodded.  
"Well it was to be expected that he would reappear at some point I suppose. Does he lodge with Lord Bard?"  
"No my king, the information is that he stays at the house of the Elvenking. It is said that he came with messages for Lord Bard from the Woodland Realm"  
Dain drew a deep breath at the mention of the Elvenking, maintaining his composure with some effort. A sense of unease flickered into life, as it always did at the mention of that name, but he pushed it from him and waved the messenger calmly away.  
"Very well you may go about your business, but let me know immediately if any more on the wizards is discovered."

He watched the departing dwarf with an expressionless face but the could feel the tension growing within him, the worm of memory rearing its head again and nibbling at his gut. What messages might the wizard bring from Thranduil to Bard and what might they mean for him? He gnawed at his lower lip as he thought about that, a deep frown settling on his brow, he knew that Thranduil would visit the city for the ceremony of the Battlestone but he had not expected to have to meet him before then. Did this message mean that he was planning to visit sooner? If so, why?

He shook his head in anger at himself, there was no reason to think such a thing, and, even if Thranduil did come before he was expected,what of it? There was no cause for a meeting between the two of them before the summer and then the meeting would be formal and distant with no need of more than polite and diplomatic exchanges. No, this message could be of little interest, but if the wizard was here then there could be little doubt that he would pay them a visit. Dain felt his stomach clench at the unwelcome thought and cursed himself, and then cursed his cousin who had put him in this position.

Things had been going well, the halls of the king under the mountain had not yet been restored to their full glory but some rooms were almost as they had been in the days before Smaug, the gate was strong again and the statues that guarded it had been replaced. Thorin stood beside him in the new carving, something Dain had some reservations about but which had been received well by others, and there were many others now. Though the population of Erebor was still some way short of the numbers of Thror's time there were enough now to hold the mountain, unless the attacker was again a dragon.

But he didn't want to think of attacks by dragon's, not with the wizard so close.

Dain had been careful to do all he could to avoid the dragons curse and for many months he had camped outside the mountain whilst all trace of Smaug was removed not wishing to risk the madness that had taken his cousin. He had been careful when dealing with the mound of treasure too, unlike Thorin he had made no claim to anything that was not clearly his own, not seeking to keep that which Smaug had stolen from others. All that had been taken from the men of Dale and the lake had returned as soon as he was asked, so too had those things belonging to the elves of Mirkwood, and anything whose ownership had been deemed uncertain had been set aside and would stay so for one hundred years. So far it seemed to have held any lingering dragon curse at bay for no other dwarf had been corrupted as Thorin had been. There had been other good effects too, his relationship with the men of Dale was strong, and though he would probably never be held in the same regard as the Elvenking he knew himself to be respected and considered fair. Even his relationship with Thranduils Realm was harmonious, distant it was true but there was no strife between them and should he need assistance from that quarter at some future time he had no real doubts that it would be forthcoming. Given all that had gone before he could ask for little more.

But there remained that lingering unease, and it would probably always be there since the cause could not be removed. For all he held Thorin to be much to blame he was honest enough to know that some part of the fault was his own, and there had been few days since then that he hadn't recalled it and regretted it. A glimpse of himself in a mirror dressed as king was enough to call back to his mind that other king who was the source of his discomfort and the look of sympathy in his eyes, a look that had cut the soon to be king of dwarfs to the quick. Now the coming of the wizard reminded him again. Dain scowled at the floor, his mind drifting back to the those difficult days after the battle, back to that one meeting that was the cause of his unease. The meeting in the Elvenking's tent the day before they buried Thorin and his nephews in the vault below the mountain, the meeting where ….

No he would not think of that! Enough that he must remember that he had been bested by Thranduil that day and that the wizard had seen it. That they had met in the following days of the funeral and his crowning in no way undid what had been witnessed, for minds had been on too many other things and he had been able to pretend to himself for a while that it would not matter. But once those events were passed, once he was king under the mountain with time and space to brood, then he saw it differently and realised that it had changed things and that he could never undo it.

But he particularly regretted that the wizard had been there to see it for he travelled widely and spoke with many and Dain couldn't help but wonder who else he had told of those events. He knew that Gandalf had long considered him unreasonable, and that did not worry him, but that the wizard might now also consider him to be a fool did, and he had never had the opportunity to set him right on the matter, for Gandalf had left Dale with the elvish host soon after Thorin's funeral, taking his hobbit friend with him and he had not been seen since.

As to where he had gone, what information Dain had been able to glean suggested that he not travelled to Thranduil's Halls but that he had left the Elvenking at the gates to the forest. Bard had it that he and his companion had skirted north around Mirkwood and then had tracked south and crossed the Misty mountains heading west. There had been no sighting nor word of either of them since. What form of portent Gandalf's return might prove to be would be seen in time but it was unlikely that the news was good and the very sound of his name made Dain uneasy.

He sat back in his chair and scowled at the floor. No, there was almost no one in all Arda he would rather see less, other than Sauron himself, or the Elvenking, yet it was too much to hope that the wizard would stay in Dale or move on without coming to the mountain, and Dain knew that, as king, he could hardly refuse to see him without reason. Had it been later in the year he might have set off on a hunting trip or some other journey but the spring was still young and the roads unpredictable. He could not even summon up reports of orc to chase for none had been seen in the mountains or the land around them since that battle before his gates, yet the very thought of meeting Gandalf filled him with a desire to escape, to flee. He sighed, but to do so would be to admit defeat and that he would not do, not even if he could find a pretext, therefore there was nothing to be done other than to be as gracious as he could when the wizard appeared.

He sighed again and rising began to pace, a not unusual occurrence when he allowed himself to think of that time, or think of Thorin. Not that he could lay it all at his cousins door, he knew he had not behaved well that day, that his manner and his insulting and taunting of King Thranduil had not been consistent with his own Lordship and dignity. He had known that even before he knew the truth, Thranduil had seemed fearless that day, everything a warrior king and leader should be, and Dain had found himself regretting his earlier outburst. Now, well now he would give much to be able to take it back.

He crossed the room and poured himself a cup of ale then sank down on the chair beside the table, taking a deep swallow as he frowned at the floor. 'If only it were just that to regret then I might face the wizard with more ease,' he thought, 'then I might pass my taunting off as the anger of one kept from aiding his kin, but the rest...' He took another gulp, feeling the anger rise in him and the ale turned to vinegar in his mouth, the insults were not the worst of it by a long way for he had been shown to be a gullible fool, caught out believing tall tales and stories of monsters, and that he could not forgive himself. He should not have... well there was no point in dwelling on that now and it seemed he would soon have to face one of the few who had seen.

He drew a deep breath, but perhaps he was being pessimistic the wizard might he not recall the matter, no that was not likely, but he might behave as if he did not, which would serve as well. Gandalf was a wily old fox and knew much of the hearts of men, dwarfs and elves and so might just treat him as he was, the king under the mountain, and for the sake of that kingship not mention it and they could both pretend that it had not happened. Yes, perhaps that was how it would be and that he could manage. He swore long and hard at his own foolishness but he would know that the wizard knew and so he would not be comfortable again until the visit, whatever its purpose, was concluded.

Dain took another swig of ale and stared at the wall, his mind lost in remembering those days that had brought him a crown and a pile of gold but that had cost him many comrades and friends of his youth. Given the fight and the enemy he could not regret coming but there were some things he would have wished different. The raven had brought the message and they had started their march as soon as the warriors could be mustered and got into armour, they hadn't even bothered to assemble supplies more than they needed for the march for Thorin had promised much in return for their aid. He had moved swiftly, perhaps too much so for it had given him little time to reflect. Looking back Dain knew that he had not taken time to think about why an army of men and elves might threaten his cousin, Thorin had given him a reason of sorts and he had accepted it without thought. Why had he done so? He had asked himself that many times in the days after the battle. Why had he believed Thorin so completely, so recklessly?

True they were both dwarf and those that besieged Thorin were not, but it was not as if they had ever been close, indeed they barely knew each other if he were honest about it. In the years between Smaug's coming and dying Thorin's visits to the Iron Hills could be counted upon one hand and even then had not generally lasted long. But more than that he had long known of the weakness in the line of Durin, of Thror's obsession for gold and the price his people had paid for it. Yet he had conaidered none of that when the message came, instead he swallowed every word of it and raged at men and elves even as he called together his host. Yet it might have been different if he had been more cautious. He slapped his hand against his thigh in frustration, and he should have been more cautious, less willing to take what he had been told as truth! He hadn't seen Thorin often but despite that he knew him to be a proud and bombastic fellow with a high regard for his own importance and more than a little prone to grudges, just like his grandfather in fact. He had made it clear in his brief time in the Iron Hills that viewed himself as king even if he no longer had a kingdom, and that he expected his kin to treat him as such. His cousin had always been demanding and fond of his getting his own way, rather given to embellishing his stories too, for he much liked the sound of his own voice. All things that he should have given more thought to at the time but hadn't.

Dain took another mouthful of ale and stared at the floor with narrowed eyes. He had known that something strange had happened on the day the dragon arrived, for there had been no call for aid then, as Thranduil had so astutely observed. Later he had learned that both Thorin's grandfather and father had somehow escaped the mountain when few others did, which should perhaps have made him wonder how that could be the case. When the disaster came upon Erebor the few that survived had not sought out their kin for succour, preferring far away lands amongst men; perhaps he knew the reason why now. But he had never given thought to that either. In the days of glory those within the mountain had not had many dealings with their kin in the Iron Hills and when it fell, bar a passing anger at the works of Dragons and the loss of so much gold to a firedrake, Dain's folk had given little thought. He shook his head at his own foolishness; knowing all of that he should have been more cautious about accepting Thorin's claims. Nor was there much excuse for not doing so for as soon as Thranduil had started to speak he had known the Elvenking's words to be the truth, realised that time and distance and the nature of dragons meant that things could never have been as Thorin claimed.

So why had he been so credulous? Certainly not for love of Thorin nor for any loyalty to Durin's line. Had he believed it because that message named the Elvenking? He did not wish it to be the case but it could not be discounted easily for he relationship between dwarf and elf was always difficult given the history that lay between them. He scowled at the thought, it was true that many dwarfs disliked elves in general as the firstborn of Eru's children, feeling some disadvantage given their own origins. That elves were skillful, that they fair and quick and strong, and tall, only fostered more distrust in many dwarfs who thought them unfairly blest. Thranduil now, he was a case in point, he had walked the world for millennia and yet his senses were undimmed and he was as strong and vital and quick and... young as the day he passed his majority. Time did not touch elves, immortal as they were, and their memories were long; how could man or dwarf be expected to understand such beings, much less like them! That the dwarvish race had sinned deeply against elves did not help of course, despite the ages between those sins and the present time. An elf like Thranduil might well remember such events and have seen them or known those who had. Something else that made him uneasy, for how could you say 'we did not' when the one you spoke to might respond 'you did for I was there.'

Was that why he had believed?

Yet , it was perhaps it was as he had said that day, Thorin was kin so why should he had doubted? Thorin's line had no specific cause for dislike of elves in general, and none towards the Elvenking particularly that he had known of before that wretched message. But it was a;so true that Thror had held many resentments against the Realm of the elves of Greenwood, even before the madness took him he had resented the fact that Thranduil's Realm had been established long before they came, and that it extended up to the foot t of the mountain itself. He had been angry that the beautiful forest that surrounded their mountain, and fertile plain between that forest and the river, was not within their control and that they had to pay tolls to use the road and river and seek permission to collect firewood or graze cattle there. There had been other stories too, that as the madness for gold took ever greater hold of Thror he had come to covet the metals and gems that lay within the rocks beneath the great forest and ran in ore rich lines through the hills from which Thranduil had carved his Halls. Rocks that he was forbidden to tunnel or mine and that were protected by the Elvenking's power. That the elves had carved their Halls without help from Dwarfs had also been a source of irritation, and that they continued to enlarge them without paying for his help cut him deeper still. When Thranduil had started smelting and working his silver and gold for himself then Thrors' rage had apparently been loud. Dain had no knowledge then or now of why the Elvenking had taken such a measure but thinking about it with cool blood it was clear that the reason must have been serious for Sylvan elves did not excel at such metal working and the number of Sindaran smiths and craftsmen within his population could not be large. Those he had were needed to make the swords and spears that, along with his own power, something else the king under the mountain had resented, defended the lands of his people from others who coveted them.

But he hadn't thought of any of those things and as a result he had been caught out behaving like both a bully and a fool. Which brought his mind full circle and back to the wizard. He took another gulp of ale, ah well he would remember he was a king now and smile and speak fair words to the visitor as if there were no such memories between them. But he wished he had more warning and he wondered why no word had come to him whilst the wizard was on the road to Dale. Perhaps he should establish a new watchpost that gave better sight of the road out from the forest. Whatever the reasons for his visit the coming of Gandalf reminded Dain of that last battle for the mountain and the indisputable fact that the danger from the great darkness was not yet past. Yes, something indeed to consider.

Dain got to his feet and shook out his robes, 'yes,' he thought, 'the battle may not yet be over. Perhaps that is the portent of this arrival, the reminder that the enemy still survives and an army of orc might one day return to the mountains.'

He drained his cup of ale went off to consider what he might yet do to to improve their defences.


	30. Chapter 30

**Letters**

The sun was high in the pale spring sky when Gandalf finally finished writing his letter. He looked at the sheet of parchment before him with some regret, it said far less than he had hoped it might when he first took the road to Dale but perhaps it was enough for the moment. He grimaced as he scanned the missive again, his penmanship was not of an elvish standard, his command of the nib being insufficient to prevent some blemishes, many of them now he came to look closer, but then he had so little need to write that some deficiencies must be expected. The pile of discarded sheets at his feet were testimony to the fact that he had tried for a fair hand, his attempts had used all the sheets that he had asked for and he was loath to ask for yet more, moreover the day was progressing and he still had much to do.

With a resigned sigh he blotted the remaining damp words and folded the sheet, Thranduil was not small minded and so would not expect a wilderness wandering wizard to produce a hand to compare with Elrond's scribes. He frowned at the burned out candle before him, the probability was that the Elvenking was more than accustomed to reading hurried notes written in clotted ink, for spies could rarely have leisure to practice their penmanship and Gandalf doubted that all of Thranduil's informants were in the courts of other kings. He smiled softly to himself recalling the wide knowledge of far distant lands that the king of the wood seemed to possess, but a few most assuredly were.

With a sigh he sealed the folded sheet with the wax provided to him and then he rose to his feet then he pulled on his cloak, thrusting the little packed into his pocket as he left the room.

Outside the day was warmer than the evening had threatened and though the streets were wet and the paving cold, it was clear that winter had finally lost its grip on the Dale. He nodded to the guards at the gate and strode out into the thoughfare beyond, turning left towards the road that led towards the river. He and the king had decided that the letter should be carried by the raft elves now that trade on the river had begin again, for the river was the fastest way for man, goods or letter to travel from Dale to the Elvenking's Halls. Though Gandalf had refused an offer of transport down to Dale when he saw the height of the waters and the speed and strength of the current he had no real worry about the fate of his letter.

Dale was busy at this time of day with tradespeople of all types calling their wares or hurrying about other business, he noticed a number of stalls and small shops selling crafted metal work and mechanical devices, things he associated with dwarfs, but he passed none of their number in the streets. This early in the year food was limited but there were stalls on many street corners selling bread, soup and cheese and the few hostelries he passed seemed to be doing a brisk trade. Dale was not yet the rich place it had once been but the children of men were forgetting the Dragon and the battle for the mountain and the darkest days seemed to be behind them, for the moment at least. Gandalf frowned as he strode on, this propensity of men to forget might yet bring them all to the brink of the abyss again, thank the Valar that there were Thranduil and Elrond to remember. Galadrial and Celeborn had withdrawn too far from the world to be much use in the keeping the memories of men alive. Even Elrond barely left his hidden valley these days but at least his contact with the Rangers of the North and South ensured that some were reminded that the great evil still remained a force in the world. A closer force than was comfortable if...

Gandalf halted abruptly beside a carved pillar memory pulling at him, it was here that he had first waylaid Thranduil in search of someone to go to Ravenill, here too that he had chided him about his son. A bitter memory that one given what was to come, but father and son had found peace together again, or so it seemed and so not as bitter as it might have been. The elven bond with their children was far stronger than those of men and their children and it would have hurt him greatly had he been a part of tearing the son from his father. Yet Legolas's crimes had been major and it would not have been beyond possibility that the king would find himself unable to take his son back given the support he had rendered to one who was in essence a traitor if not to an assain. Not only because of his own hurt either, for he was a king and things other than his own affections had to be considered within his deliberations, it said much of the love of the people of the wood for their king that most had rejoiced at the princes return. It could only have been the fathers' grief that allowed them to forgive a prince and a captain who had abandoned them, run from his own failings, and without even honouring those they had lost.

Gandalf stared around him, a grim look lingering about his mouth and eyes as memory raced ahead, it would not be far from here that she too had accosted her king and threatened his life with such dreadful consequences. Did she ever come here he wondered? He doubted that she would be asked to patrol here, and indeed there would be no need, but he could imagine that her self absorption might draw her here to relive that moment and wallow in the feelings of that day. Seven years was but a second to an elf and their conversaion had convinced him that she did not truly regret her actions and their consequences even now. His fingers slipped to the letter and he sighed again, he would so like to be sure about her but for the moment there was nothing more he could do on that score, he fingered the outline of the little packet and gave a mental shrug, perhaps Thranduil would be able to do more on the matter in the summer. He sighed, nodded his apology to the scowling woman whose way he was blocking, and moved on.

As he made his way through the streets, feeling the little parchment package rustle as he moved, he let his mind wander back to the days after the battle again, but this time his thoughts centred on Bilbo Baggins. In fact the hobbit was often on his mind and had been for some time, and not only because he liked the little fellow for his good humour and unassuming courage. As they had tramped back to the Shire together he had been granted plenty of time to think and that thinking had bred certain suspicions, not comfortable ones either. Of course it shouldn't have taken him so long to suspect when it explained many things, but somehow putting the idea of a hobbit and such evil together was not natural. But something Thranduil had said before the battle had come back to him as they had made their way towards Rivendell, about how the hobbit had taken the keys from under the noses of his guards and that had first seeded the idea but he had not gone much beyond that. Yet Bilbos' reluctance to say how he had managed either to get the keys or how he had got up Ravenhill in safety, coupled with his repeated attempts to avoid the topic, he who was such a garrolous and open little chap, had convinced Gandalf that there was something there to be found out. Yet in all the months of their journey back to the Shire, including that very pleasant stay with Elrond, he had learned nothing more. He had sent a letter to Thranduil from Imladris asking for more information about the dwarfs saty in the Mirkwood cells but he had received no reply, which had stirred the thought that something unthinkable might very well have occurred, something too terrible to contemplate lightly. Some information that the Elvenking would not risk to any form of messenger.

When he last saw Bilbo, happily ensconced in Bag End once again, there had been no sign that his unpleasant suspicion was correct and so he had left the hobbit to take up the reins of his peaceful life unaware of that any danger might still linger. But he had then set about matters that were far from peaceful, following the footsteps he had taken with Thorin's company again looking for where the suspected event might have taken place, if indeed it had. Eventually he had ended up back at Mirkwood and Thranduil's Halls where he had found a grieving king and another problem that might yet threaten Middle earth. But in talking with the king he had learned certain things that had both shaken him and ended his uncertainty, for the Thranduil had told him that he believed that Bilbo had lived undetected within his Halls for some time before he released Throin, and also that the One Ring had been for a time within his lands. He explained how his sense of the ring had co-incided with the arrival of the dwarfs, one reason for his distrust of them and his determination to know their business, and how it had gone with them, until Dale when he was sure that it had brushed against him again. Gandalf had no doubts of what the Elvenking had told him for Thranduil was an elf lord of considerable power and one who had been in the company of that accursed object before. If he thought he had sensed it then he had.

So it seemed that it was indeed found and as such it could only be a matter of time before Sauron heard word of it. Time was short then, it could not be more than a generation of men before the Dark Lord began to seek it out. Which meant that Bilbo and the Shire and all the lands towards the west would be in danger, for with Thorin dead there could be few other places it might rest.

The wizard strode on frown deepening as he passed a goldsmiths shop newly opened and saw a tray of rings on display. If Thorin had lived then the ring might have been buried within the mountain with none the wiser, and if he had known of the ring before Thorin was buried it might still have been. However that opportunity was passed and if the thing had to be anywhere then it was as safe as it was likely to be with Bilbo, for with his adventure over he would probably to lock it in a box and forget about it. Even if he did not he was less likely to sucumb to its temptation than most other beings in the world.

In the end though its master would find it though, for it wanted to be found. But perhaps not quite yet. But the Shire would need to be closely watched and there were few he could trust to do that. Once Elrond's foster son was grown and returned to his own people there would be other allies but for the moment the boy was too young and untried. He would need to seek other help on the matter, Gandalf frowned it seemed he must write another letter when he reached Erebor, this time to Elrond to ask what other agents there might be that could be trusted on the western side of the mountains.

He smiled to himself as he though of Elrond's foster son, a nice lad but still untutored in the ways of the world and not yet aware of his destiny, for he could not be more than seventeen and had spent much of his life in the cloistered world of Imladris. But that must end soon, Elrond had agreed that now was the time for the boy to venture further afield and prepare himself for the road ahead for the boy had much to learn. His smile faded, if Elronds belief was right then road before the lad was a hard one indeed, though it might yet have a golden ending for all. Gandalf hoped that was indeed the case but he also hoped that the here to there did not match the dark sorrow in the elf lords face when he spoke of it.

His musing ended as he reached the river and saw the boats of the raft elves tied up at the landing stage. To one side was a large wooden structure and before it was a fire its flames bent this way and that on the whim of the wind blowing up from the great lake to the south. He strode across the beaten mud path towards the fire where three elves were studying a list, all three looked up as he approached and one, a tall ellon with hair the colour of newly shelled beech nuts, muttered something and waived the other two away. Gandalf went to stand before him with a smilr.

"Well met my friend. I have an errand for you."  
With that he drew the kings' marker from his pocket and held it out. The elf smiled and inclined his head.  
"There is no need for formality my lord for my king had sent word that you would be here and would have some small cargo to be taken to him as swiftly as the river allows."  
Gandalf beamed at him  
"Ah, I should have guessed that would be the case for the foresight of your king is well known."  
The elf inclined his head almost as regally as that king himself might have done.  
"He is indeed a wise lord and a fair one for he has paid so that we might send a second boat with your cargo and not disrupt the trade we came to do."  
"Then take it," Gandalf held out the packet of parchment, "and carry it swiftly for I would have as little delay in the transport as can be managed."

The raft elf took the letter and slipped it into a waxed wrapping that lay on the ground beside him, clearly they had been expecting it. He shot Gandfalf a gentle smile.  
"It will be at the river gate by sunset tomorrow provided the weather holds fair and the current does not become too angry."  
"Good, good, and how long from there?"  
"By moonhigh it should be at the palace for the king will have a steward waiting to receive it, I will send a messenger ahead to ensure its coming is forewarned."  
The wizard nodded and gave the elf captain one of the small silver coins Thranduil had given him when he set out for Dale.  
"May Ulmo watch over you," he said softly  
The captain nodded with a serious look.  
"Does he not always? I certainly pray that he does for the river can be fierce at times."  
"I am sure that he does." Gandalf replied gently.

The elf nodded and waived towards the fire.  
"Will you not sit with us a while and take some warmed mead for the wind still carries a chill."  
Gandalf smiled, for clearly the offer was made in deference to his aged appearance.  
"I thank you; the mead would be most welcome and a little time in conversation if you can spare it."  
The raft elf smiled.  
"You are most welcome my lord for it is good to be able to speak in our own language to someone other than those I ride the river with."  
With that he turned away and drew a pot from a basket beside the fire.

Gandalf smiled to himself as he folloed the elf closer to the flames and settled himself down for a long gossip, for elves do like to know of things and they hear much they do not speak of unless asked in the right manner.

xxxx

In her room in the Elvenkings' garrison in Dale Tauriel sat and thought about her conversation with the wizard. His words had opened the door to her anger again, but had also stirred thoughts and doubts that she had not allowed herself to dwell on since the earliest days. The sense of anger and fear still held her in its thrall and the memories of that day of battle, as vivid and painful as the time, continued to parade through her mind. As ever the only picture that was missing was that of Kili either in life of death, that still remained a shadow and, as with each attempt at remembering, she wondered why and what, if anything, it meant. She had been sure for some time that the kings' words to her on Ravenhill had been an attempt at kindness on his part rather than any truth he believed for she did not doubt any longer that he had known the hollowness of her love for the dwarf. Why he had shown such compassion when she had wounded him so she did not know, and many were the times when she wished he had not. Who the kindness had been for she was not sure even now, for her, for his son or perhaps even for the dwarf who had died bravely, somehow that last one was the most unbearable.

Which ever it was she knew she should be glad of it and yet she was not.

But the wizards' words had also brought new thoughts and feelings in her and none were pleasant, for he had accused her, there was no other word for it, of being careless of her kin, of judging them less important than one she felt some softness for. That she had in bald truth viewed her own wishes and affections to be more important than their companys lives. As he had spoken she had seen the direction of his words and denied them, yet the echo of them still reverberated around her thoughts. It could not be so! If she had done such a thing then she would have grievously sinned, more so than the king she thrown such harsh words at, for the king had done what he did in protection of his people not at the prompting of his own desires. But it was not so, it could not be so. How could such be said when all she had wanted was for him to send a warning to the dwarf? Yet the wizards' words had touched a raw patch within her, for it could not be denied that she had not known what risks those ascending Ravenhill might face and she had given no thought to those who must face them. Had she been the captain of a company at that moment, and without knowledge of those who needed to be warned, would she have sent them on such and errand without instruction from the King, and if she had and they had died in the attempt what would she have said to their families? She did not know the answer. Perhaps it was that admission which had set her reaching for the pen.

With a sigh she stared at the parchment before her and wondered how and where to begin. The expereince was not a new one for there had been many times when she had sat down to write to the king, never sure of what she might say but determined that she must say something, that it could not be left as it was. On the darkest days she almost wished that he had taken her back to the forest for trial as was his right and as the course of events would usually demand. If he had done so then she might have chance to speak in her own defence, to explain, and perhaps to see forgiveness in his face, to have that as her last memory of him rather than the weary distance that had been the reality of it. Many times she had started to write to him, to ask forgiveness and for news of Legolas, and all those letters sat in a locked box in her wardrobe, all still unfinished.

Now, once again, she felt moved to state her case to another. But this time she would speak to one who would listen with a kindly ear, one who would understand the confusion and the honour in her heart. This letter was not for the king but for the prince, yet it was proving no easier to write for that.

She stared down at the few lines she had written.

'My Lord

It was with much gladness I heard that you have returned to your fathers' Halls and found a welcome there. It has grieved me much to think that your defence of me had caused you to leave your home and brought your fathers' displeasure upon you. That he has found himself able to permit your return gives me much joy and hope and I pray that you and he can find some measure of peace. I do wish most wholeheartedly for your happiness.'

She sighed and buried her head in her hands, how to continue? What could she say? Legolas had seen her crying and had left without further word. From the little she had gleaned from his father he had been unable to bear the consequences of their actions and her grief. It was certainly the case that he had not ridden home with his fathers' host, nor had he attended the honour of the dead and it would have taken much for any elf who had been in battle to miss that. So it must be true. But more than that she did not know for she had heard nothing more of him at all in her time in Dale, her fellow guards watched their tongues when she was present.

Tauriel rubbed her eyes and looked back to the parchment and the drying ink and wondered how to proceed; she would like to know where he had been, what he had done, who he had visited and spoken to. She would like to know what he had seen in the lands outside of the forest and if his father had truly forgiven him. More than anything she would like to ask what it was that had brought him home. She could not imagine that he would have forgiven his father, or that he ever would, and so what could have brought him back to the kings palace? Having returned what could it be that held him there? Had he returned for her sake, was that why he stayed, had she been protected to make it possible for him to return? So much she wanted to know, so many questions she wanted to ask him and it seemed as if a letter was the only way she would ever be granted the opportunity to do so now.

She wanted to know if his father ever spoke of her.

But where could she begin?

xxx

Thranduil sat beside the Kings Tree as the sun toppled from its rising to its falling, on the low bough of a sapling before him sat a thrush its bright eyes scanning him without fear. The king smiled and let his mind wander out towards it, he inclined his head in thanks as the message was shown to him, Mithrandirs' letter was on its way up river and should be at the watergate by sunset provided all went well. Carefully he reached out to offer a small gift to the messenger and the bird rose from its perch, settled briefly on his hand as it took the morsel, then flew away to a higher branch to consider whether to eat it or dutifully return it to his mate. The kings' smile widened as he saw the bird take flight again the titbit still grasped firmly in it beak. He took time to send to a request to the giant Beech beside him that the trees guard it well over night, for its flight had been long and arduous for so small a creature, before he turned away from the beauty of the fiery sky and made his way towards his rooms to change his robe.

He had spent the day in hearing petitions from his people and was still attired in the most formal of robes, as that duty required, but now he sought a little peace and rest; tomorrow was settlement day which meant another day of sitting in the hall of audience listening to the pleas of those who were unable to pay their debts and the arguments of those who held those debts. The spring settlements were always the worst for many would have been unable to make much income in the dark months of winter. The crown would cover those debts whilst the debtor found a way to settle them of course, provided those that held the debt truly needed it paid there and then; Thranduil smiled a wry smile as he made his way through the torch lit passageways, and men wondered why he wanted tolls and treasure! He knew his reputation for a love of pretty gems but it did not concern him, they might think as they would, he kept his people secure and his kingdom happy and well ordered, caring for them as he had vowed he would on the day he was crowned. In his Realm there was little crime or hunger and his people willingly endorsed his rule, he had yet to see any evidence that the Realms of men did as well.

He halted for a minute for that thought had triggered another, he stared into a flickering torch for once not having to guard his expression,. How many Realms of men and dwarf had he seen rise and fall now? Ten, twenty? He could not be sure, but amongst them had been some of the greatest of the men of the west, if even they could not endure then what hope was there for lesser men? The time of the elves on Arda would pass, he knew that, but what would be left behind? He could, indeed must, maintain his Realm for as long as his Sylvan people chose to stay this side of the sea but how many more nations would he see rise and fall in that time? Elronds' ward was the last of the line of the kings of the men of the west, if he fell or failed then that line would fall with him. But even if he found his way to the throne of Gondor as the stories foretold he was still a mortal and though his span would be long by their standards the time would come when his spirit would depart to wherever the spirits of men were destined to go. His line might last a century or two beyond that, or maybe a little longer, but in the end it would burn away and leave the world to the care of those lesser men. What would befall Arda then?

Thranduil shivered, glad that he did not posses Elronds gift, for as the centuries had passed so his own sense of the shape of the future had grown and deepened and it rarely brought him joy. He blinked and pushed the thought away, there was nothing he could do about that for it was not given to him to order the world other than within his own kingdom, and for the moment there were enough problems there to occupy him. Perhaps the coming letter would add to them, but for his sons sake he hoped that would not prove to be the case.

He gave a deep sigh and continued towards his rooms.

xxx

"The messenger has returned my lord. Would you see him now?"

Elrond looked up from his book with a questioning expression.  
"From the Woodland Realm, this quickly?"  
Elrond maintained his calm look but he felt a sinking within him, such speed did not bode well.  
"Yes my lord he reports that spring moves swiftly in the mountains this year and he travelled easily and without any threat of molestation."  
Elrond nodded and closed his book.  
"Send him to me now, then find him food and drink for I shall not keep him long. I will speak to him in more depth when he has rested."  
The steward bowed and left the room as silently as he had entered.

"The orc army truly was decimated then." Glorfindel said from the other side of the fire.  
Elrond nodded and his look became sombre.  
"So it would seem, and if that is the case then the other rumours are likely to be true and Thranduil found himself in the middle of a true battle un prepared and may have lost many."  
Glorfindel sighed deeply.  
"That will have grieved him sorely for he is ever watchful of the welfare of those who call him king.""Indeed he is."  
Glorfindel cast a sharp look towards Elrond.  
"You think this bodes ill for our request?  
"It may perhaps, for what help have we ever offered him in his struggles against the darkness? Worse still if the dwarf Thorins quest played any part in this battle, for then he may see us as conspirators for letting them go on to the mountain."  
"Yeess," Glorfindel nodded slowly the fire gilding his golden head red at the movement. "If he knows of your part in deciphering the map they carried he might certainly do so, and he could not be blamed for it."  
"No, given the apparent outcome it might indeed be seen as an unfriendly act."  
"Even without the outcome it might be seen as an unfriendly act Elrond, given the presence of a dragon within that mountain. Gandalf was never clear on what he expected the dragon to do and I confess we were a little lax in questioning him."  
Elrond sighed and nodded.  
"I know, I agmit it did not occur to me to think of the danger that Thranduils folk might face if they roused the beast. It should have done, yet it did not."

He rose and went to stand at the window.  
"The elves of Thranduils Realm have much to complain of," he said softly. "For too long we delayed any action against Dol Guldor and they bore the consequences. We left them to fight alone, to struggle against the spreading darkness without respite, without help. Yet what could we have done? The mountains that stand between us are harsh and dangerous and the road is an arduous one. Each season more of our kin leave for the West and our people are not warriors for the most part.  
"Yet Thranduils people have had no choice but to be so." Glorfindel said with a wry smile.  
Elrond nodded.  
"Indeed, and that may prove to be important in the coming battle. For if Sauron returns none of our Realms will be left untouched, unchallenged."  
"It is also why we need Thranduils help." Glorfindel added with a sigh.  
"Yes. There is no one else left who we might ask. Though Estels road lies amongst men the time is not right for him to show himself to them, and even if it were I doubt that the help would be offered.  
Glorfindel gave a harsh laugh.  
"No, certainly not by those who might lose by his coming.  
"Then there is only Thranduil, and he will do it well and with kindness if he will do it at all."

The door opened and the messenger entered, he approached Elrond and bowed.  
"My Lord, I delivered your letter to King Thranduil and have returned as soon as I might with his response."  
Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged a look, a response of some kind was better than none. Elrond reached out for the offered packet noting the King's seal upon it, feeling a little easing of the tension that had gripped him as he realised the king had replied in person.  
"You made good time."  
"Yes my Lord, the journey home was swift, the elves of Mirkwood escorted me though the forest and across the river and into the foothills. We saw no creatures of the dark on that route and the King permits no lawless men within his borders. The mountains too were kind the weather more like early summer than fractious spring."  
Glorfindel rose and came across to stand with them.

"What manner of welcome did your receive, for it is some time since one of our people ventured into the Woodland Realm?" He asked.  
"A kindly one my Lord, though it is a strange place and the people strange too in some ways. But they welcomed me and cared for my needs as my own would do."  
"And what of the King? Did he receive you in person?" Elrond asked.  
"Aye my Lord and he spoke to me kindly, as if he were any Lord rather than the last King of elves in Arda."  
Elrond smiled and nodded.  
"Well we must speak more of this when you have rested, for I would know more of how the people of the forest fare and of the manner of their king in these uncertain times, but that need not be now. Go and refresh yourself and we will speak again tomorrow."  
The messenger nodded and bowed then he hurried away to rid himself of the stains of the road.

Elrond watched him go with a smile.  
"I think he was a little overawed by the King." Glorfindel said with a laugh.  
"Why should he not be for he is young in the nature oi elves and will probably have met few of Thranduils lineage outside of our own lands, and he spoke no more than the truth. Thranduil is indeed the last Elvenking in Arda and a great one by all account. Would we seek his help if he were not? Sometimes I wonder what some in the Halls of Mandos make of that if they know of it.  
He turned his eyes back to the letter.  
"It bears his seal not that of his people, which means he replied himself. What that bodes I cannot tell other than that he read the letter I sent to him, he would have had a secretary reply if he had not."

With that he took the dagger from his belt and slit the wax that closed the missive. Two sheets were revealed both covered in a fine and flowing script.

After a moment Elrond looked up, his gaze drifting to the scene beyond the window.  
"He wonders at my reluctance to name my concerns and objectives and the sudden desire to visit his lands."  
Glorfindel frowned.  
"Well I suppose that was to be expected."

He turned away and moved back towards his chair beside the fire, halting suddenly as Elrond held out the letter.  
"But he bids me come."


	31. Chapter 31

_This is getting too long again, so this seems a reasonable place to break it._

 _Thank you to those who have so kindly commented and that I cant respond to, your comments are most gratefully received. Thanks too to those who are sticking with this despite the fact that life prevents me updating regularly I'm so glad you find it worthwhile._

 **Interlude**

'Hail O king of the Woodland Realm. I trust this letter finds you in the same good health and heart as when I last slept within your halls.'

At any other time the elaborate greeting would have brought a wry smile to Thranduil's lips but on this occasion it passed unnoticed.

He was sitting in a patch of sunlight beneath the king's tree close to the sacred glade of Eru west of the palace, and though he knew his guard would not be far away for the moment they were out of his sight and he had at least the illusion of being alone.

He had opened the letter with some trepidation, a feeling which had deepened as he realised that the thickness of the little packet reflected the number of sheets as well as the number of folds. Mithrandir was an infrequent correspondent and if he could have said 'I am sure she has not been touched by the dark one' then that was all he would have written; but the length of the letter showed that he had felt the need to say more than that, which meant either that he had found the worst, and was warning on how best to proceed, or that the matter was not resolved. Thranduil most fervently hoped that it was the latter. Unresolved it would mean more watching and waiting but that was better than the bleakness of the alternative. With a sigh he laid the letter upon his thigh and gazed around him wishing only that he could forget the matter.

The day was gentle, the chill of winter finally gone from the breeze that played with the ends of his hair and ruffled the edges of his deep green robe. Leaning back against the tree he turned his face towards the sun, just visible through the spring foliage, revelling in the warmth and in the sight of the soft golden light dancing on the new leaves. His forest was calm and content, as yet no hint of evil returned disturbed it. In the small bushes close by rustlings and scurrying told of nesting birds and foraging creatures and he smiled at the sounds of life about its business unmolested and taking little notice of the woodland king so close beside them.

It had been many centuries since he had been able to enjoy even this level of solitude beyond his palace walls, since he had been able to walk amongst the trees and commune with them unarmed and without his guard within a swords swipe. As long since he had been able to venture this far from his Halls without wearing armour of some form, something else he forgone today, much to his advisors consternation, wishing to feel the air and sun upon his skin and to remember the days of peace that he had spent so many centuries fighting to regain for his people.

Such times of rest had been rare these last centuries, not least for a king who battled daily to hold the darkness in check and provide some safety, some peace and pleasure for his people amongst those battles. The more recent loss of Legolas had also brought much grief and weariness, short though the time of his son's wandering had been. Now that too was past, even if the causes of his flight were not fully mended, and his son was back under his father's watchful eye where there would be help to resist the despair if it pulled Legolas back towards the depths. The breeze tugged at the letter and he clamped his hand upon it, a faint frown settling on his brow at the reminder of it. There were times when giving such help was difficult even now, and there were still too many occasions when he saw the sadness in those familiar eyes or watched the flush of shame steal across his son's cheek as some careless remark brought back the memory of regretted deeds and words. There were still the odd moment when the father had to bite down on words of wisdom, even comfort, not sought, or look away when he would wish to hold out a hand but knew it would only deepen the sense of guilt and loss that Legolas still struggled to set aside. How many such moments would this letter bring? He didn't know but just one would be too many. Yet despite the times of uncertainty and helplessness it was far better than knowing his son to be wandering lost and alone.

But today was not such a day. For the moment Legolas was joyfully occupied in much happier pursuits, in being the prince he wished to be, and his father knew that nothing would occur to mar it, for he had taken great care that it should be so.

He had left at sunrise to deliver a consignment of saplings to the staging point, these young trees would be the first planting in the dragon blasted land, the flat plain that stretched towards the now naked slopes of Erebor, and their transport warranted some ceremony. Once the forest had stretched to the mountain itself, to the grey mountains to the north too, and in time it would again, for the trees in Legolas's care were the first of the many that the Elvenking had promised to that ravaged flank of his Realm. Their coming would be a sign of hope, a reminder that where evil has been driven out good can once again flourish. The Prince had escorted them on their journey and the King would be there when they were first set into the ground. But that would not be for another two seasons, for a while they would be allowed to adjust to the wind and harsh light of the open land under the watchful gaze of his people at the river. Yet sending them out from the forest was a matter of note, a symbol of hope returned, and Legolas had been eager to be their guardian on the journey.

There was to be a ceremony of welcome for the new trees at the staging point and they had taken wine and food to the little community of elves that lived there and who would be the trees first custodians outside of the forest. Thranduil smiled at the dancing leaves above him, knowing his peoples love of a feast, and how much his son wished to feel a part of his people again, it was unlikely that Legolas would be back before the forest had seen another sunrise or two. Which left him able to enjoy his solitude, and for this moment, this little space of respite, Thranduil offered his whole hearted thanks, and he was resolved to take as much pleasure from it as other matters allowed.

He sighed into the breeze, his smile fading, but other matters could not be entirely set aside, that was not the lot of a king. Other matters such as the letter lying on his thigh, the folded sheets still held down by his gloveless hand, the seal ring on his finger glinting gold, amber and green in the soft light. This letter that some part of him was so loath to read knowing that it could bring certainty but also much pain, and he found that for all his great desire to know the answers it might contain he didn't want that pain on so lovely a day.

There had been some temptation to set the letter aside when it was brought to him and not read it at all, at least not today, but truly he had no choice but to do so for Legolas was sure to hear of its arrival at the river and ask the substance of it on his return. So he must read it, and reflect upon its contents, before he faced that request, for if Gandalf had found for the worst then he would have to act swiftly. There would be plans to be made for he must send his son away before her arrest and inevitable trial and punishment for he would not have Legolas sit in judgement upon her. Yet as a member of the Royal house and the Council that duty would be placed upon him if he was within the kingdom at the relevant time. The thought of what that might mean for Legolas sent a chill through his blood despite the warm air, there was nothing in Arda that would cause him to allow that. Nor could he allow it to be thought that Legolas had run away from the duty or that he feared to do it, any such suggestion would undo all that had been done since his return to redeem him in the eyes of those who censured him for his actions in Dale. No, if the news was bad then he would send Legolas away on some errand and as soon as he could and before the matter was known to others. There were several errands that would easily explain such a command from the king.

Thranduil tilted his head towards the sun and formed a list for further consideration; he might send him to Celeborn to take stock of the state of the southern forest. It was true that his informants indicated that there was no sign that the darkness had returned and so the matter could wait but if Legolas needed to be gone then he could bring it forward and none would question it. Or he might send him to Imladris as escort to Elrond and his foster son, something he had considered anyway and would have done had Legolas expressed any interest in going. Or he might send him out to scout the lands towards the Grey Mountains, north towards the Withered Heath where they had found the Easterlings not more than three moons ago. There would be others if he set his mind to it, though it would not do to send him too far for he would be needed here when Elrond arrived.

He fingered the paper again and frowned; whichever he chose he needed to be ready quickly and even then it might mean some small delay in responding to the threat. On balance that would seem to be of little matter for she had been in Dale since the day of the battle with no apparent harm done, leaving her there for another moon cycle or two could be of no consequence given how closely she was watched.

But for this moment he did not have to plan for such an eventuality, the letter remained unread and the day continued fair, and he could delay reading it a little longer.

He stared towards the sky, his frown fading, smiling slightly as the tree whispered to him of its pleasure in his presence and the joy at the days of light after so much darkness. Somewhere in the whispering was the recognition that darkness was not gone for ever but today the trees were happy, the wind and rain were clean and the land was without pain. For the moment the only thing they asked of him was that he rested, was also happy, and grew strong against the time when the darkness returned.

He sighed and nestled further back into the trees' embrace and opened his mind to it. As the sun warmed his skin he sighed in pleasure and allowed himself to admit to the forest how the years of fighting had wearied him, even without the ill mannered stupidity of dwarfs, the excesses of foolish children and a wizard who sometime gave scant thought to consequences and even less to the lessons of the past. It had been hard, for not all of the invading evil had come in the solid shape of spiders and warg, and though the magic of his people was strong it had fallen to him as their king to hold back the worst of the evil enchantments, particularly in the darkest of days. For this moment he could admit how rapacious that darkness had been, and how much of himself he had had to give to hold the line. It had required all of is Sindar knowledge brought from the west as well as everything that he had learned from his people to keep the darkness from overwhelming all of Greenwood.

Even then he had grieved for each bush and tree blighted by the venom of the spiders and each acre abandoned in the face of overwhelming odds of warg and wild wolf and the creeping dark enchantment leaching from the fortress. Each loss a pain he had borne without comment, offering only apology to the forest he so often felt he had failed, gathering his people together, doing all his power to unite them into a stronger nation, providing them with a place of safety into which they could withdraw to regroup if their enemies came too close. He had chosen his friends carefully using all the wisdom of his years on Arda, and he had kept his enemies at bay as far as he could. Those he did not know he treated with caution remembering how the enemy could twist minds and hearts, ignoring their blandishments as well as their curses. He did not complain that his people fought alone, nor did he rail at Elrond and Galadrial for their holding of rings and the safety and peace they enjoyed as a result whilst they offered his people no help.

He sighed again, if only they had struck it when he first asked the Council to then…., he pushed the thought away for there was no point in such wondering now, he had been proved right in the end but there was no joy in that for anyone, certainly not for him. He had fought alone and he had lost much, but he had not lost all. Today was a day for being glad of that.

The tree whispered its agreement and repeated the request that he rest.

Rest and freedom from care, yes he would like that if only for a little while, but the paper beneath his hand told him that troubles were still lapping at his gates. Thranduil closed his fingers around the paper again and frowned slightly feeling a faint stirring of regret, perhaps he should not have agreed to the wizard's request. He was not sure what he had expected when Gandalf had set off for Dale but he had hoped that that there might be enough answers to allow them to close the doors on some part of that bitter past for his sons sake.

Tauriel had betrayed those who had loved and protected her and those whom she should have protected, in the course of which she had trampled all honour and duty, all loyalty, on little more than a whim; yet if had ended there he would have tried to find a way to bring her home. But it had not and when thwarted in her desires she had threatened to take his life with her own hand, and had been prepared to do so. For that her current punishment was perhaps too lenient, too kind. She that he had taken into his house, the child he had read to and sung with and taught to use a bow had wished to take his life, and however much he tried to understand, struggled to forgive, the memory would always be lurking, a shadow that he would never quite drive away. Even so he could not bring himself to wish for the judgment that must come down to her if Gandalf found most truly against her.

But if there was any chance at all that she had fallen to the dark lords enticements it could not be ignored. Whatever his personal wishes and fears the good of his Realm, and perhaps the whole of Arda, would take precedence. Not even his concerns for Legolas could be allowed to sway him if that was the outcome. All he could do now was pray that the wizard did not find some deeper darkness in her; for if he had then they would all feel the touch of an evil that could never be set aside.

The tree behind him seemed to whisper that now was not the moment for such thoughts the tendrils of the forest mind entwining around his own, its song sending shivers of joy and a calm and languorous ease through his body. The blue of his eyes slipped to green as the forest spirit wound itself about him. He clamped his hand down upon the letter again, but the sense of urgency fled before the forests' voice; he would not read it yet, the uncertainty could last a little longer, the day was sweet and he was weary of care, the forest and his guards would watch over him if he took a little time to rest.

The wind stirred the branches above him and the tree crooned a sympathetic song, the gold green light wrapped itself around him and the king of the wood drifted off into dreams of the past and walked again with those he had lost.

Around him the trees danced and called to his guard.

'The king sleeps, come and watch over him. Closer, come.'

With a small smile the guards made their way to the king's tree and settled themselves around the glade where they could see their sleeping lord, happy to wait and keep watch in the peace of the shifting shadows until he woke.

xxx

They had arrived at the staging point whilst the sun was all but done with its climb and the shadows were sharp and hard. Many had gathered to greet the trees brought from their place of sprouting in the kings halls in readiness for the new planting. There was a joyful atmosphere with much song and music, the sound of the lyre rippling on the breeze and mingling with the burble of the river and the rustle of the young trees. Tables had been laid in the warm spring sunshine and food and wine were being laid out even as Legolas and his company first approached the little settlement.

This was not one of the main toll points on the river and normally the elven population was small, but today it was thronged by many who had come from other staging posts and with guards who were returning to the forest after a duty in the City garrison. There were even some mortal men, woodsmen and barge men who lived or worked within the Thrandul's Realm. The knowledge that in time the forest would once again spread up through the lands blasted by the dragon and lap at the feet of the mountain brought them hope of prosperity for their sons and daughters, for none of them here today would ever see these trees reach their maturity.

Watching them Legolas felt the usual stirring of unease when faced with such a reality, knowing how easy it was for men to plunder without care when they would never have to see the truth or bear the consequences of it. His mind drifted back to the day when his father had first stood him beneath a tall beech, a tree just reaching its full glory, and explained to him how many generations of men had come and gone within the life of a tree that was as yet not old. Even now, nearly two millennia later, when he had seen many trees grow tall and fail and seen the similar rise and destruction of the lands of mortal men it was something he found difficult to fathom. While his father held the Forest these young trees would thrive and grow to tower over the land, and the desolation of Smaug would again be reclaimed by life and vigour, but if he left, sailed west, then what fate would they or the land find with the descendants of these men and women?

Not for the first time he wondered at the fate of Arda if the elves and their immortal memory should leave for the west

With a shiver he pushed the thought away and springing lightly from his horse he led his company towards the throng. The welcome was warm, for himself and his companions as much as for the trees. They led their horses to a patch of good grazing and released them to rest in the spring sunshine before they set about unloading the young trees from the carts bearing them. With great care they carried them towards the settlement and into the shelter of the stone walls that had been built for the purpose. Singing songs of reassurance and welcome they set the saplings into their temporary beds spilling warmed earth around their roots and bringing buckets of water to the slake their thirst. Then the elves and men gathered around the trees and formally welcomed them to their new home, the songs painting pictures of the forest they would become and the joy of the land and its inhabitants at their coming.

As the sun sank towards the horizon they moved towards the river bank where the wine and food were laid out beside a newly lit fire, they added the provisions they had brought as the king's gift to the day and the feasting began.

It was a good day, one of those when he felt that he had never been away, that the fracture between himself and his people and his land had been shallow and easily mended. There were still some here who looked at him with uncertain eyes, whose voice and expressions were less cordial than once they would have been, but they were few enough for him to feel a little sad but not overwhelmed or despairing as he moved amongst the people delivering the messages his father had charged him with, the promise that the king would be here when these new young ones were first set in the ground in their home before the first frosts of Autumn. He listened with a smile as the elves and woodmen pledged themselves to the care of the returning forest.

'Yes, a good day,' he thought as he watched the elves dancing around the new trees, 'A joyful day for all. For the time will come when I will walk beneath these trees and their offspring and we will talk of this day and the hope it brought.'

He poured himself another glass of wine and settled back against the warmth of the stone wall smiling up at the elf that came to settle himself at his side. It was one of the guards from Dale who had family here and had leave to join them in the festivities. After a moment or two the other turned towards Legolas and spoke in a low voice.

"My Lord, I trust I do not speak out of turn and interrupt you thoughts. Gandalf the Grey has been in Dale and with the kings permission he talked for some time with one of our number in the garrison."  
Legolas inclined his head with a small smile.  
"So my father told me. There is no need to tread around the matter as if it were a bog that might swallow us. I know who he has spoken to and why. What would you tell me of the matter?"  
"Only that the wizard spent much time and labour on writing a letter which he delivered to the raft elves for transport. Their headman came to see me before we left at dusk with a message to carry to the king or yourself."  
Legolas turned to look him in the face but there was no sign that the messenger was concerned by his task.  
"What is this message?" He asked calmly.  
"Only this. The letter was sent upriver yesterday and should have arrived at the water gate. However Gandalf had left for the mountain when it was sent and his last words to the raftsman were that he plans to remain with Lord Dain but a few days and if the letter has not reached your father in safety then he must sent a swift messenger to catch him before he takes the road west again, for his business is such that he will not return through the forest."  
Legolas ignored the quickening of his heart and kept all expression from his face. He inclined his head.  
"I thank you. I will be sure the king knows of this on our return, though I expect the letter is already safely in his hand."  
The other nodded and rose bowing slightly before he turned and made his way back towards his family

Legolas sighed and pushed away a sudden desire to turn for home. The contents of the letter would not change whether he learned of them tomorrow or the day after and if the news should prove bad he would be glad to have this nights' joy to remember amid the trouble that might be to come. Putting the matter from his mind he turned his attention back to the feast.

xxx


	32. Chapter 32

**Gandalfs' Judgemen** t

Day was bleeding from the sky and the bright green of the sunlit leaves had darkened towards grey as Thranduil returned to his private chambers. His mind was calm and clear, his fea soothed by the embrace of the forest and the wonder of that communion. For the first time in a while he felt truly complete, at one with the forest and the music, and not even the knowledge that the darkness and discord would eventually return could dim that joy.

He acknowledged of his guards' salute with a slight smile and a graceful inclination of his head as he strode across the threshold with no hint of care upon his face. The guards pulled the door closed behind him and exchanged looks of pleasure for it was some time since the king's light had shone so brightly. Once he had been one of the brightest of their kind but the years of struggle had paled that light and those who were closest to him had feared that the dark endeavours of the enemy, and the pain of recent events, had taken more from him than could be restored this side of the sundering seas. Yet it seemed that perhaps that had been too gloomy a prediction, for if his light was not yet of the strength of the time before the necromancer came today it seemed restored to that of the days before the battle at the lonely mountain.

In the privacy of his chamber the king was oblivious of the thoughts of those who watched over him but he was aware of a feeling of peace that had been absent for some considerable time. He smiled to himself feeling again the sense of contentment given to him by the forest, his mind and body still alight with the joy of the Greenwood and the energy of the burgeoning spring. Not even the weight of the letter in the pocket of his robe dispelled that and when he remembered it was still unread the realisation brought more a sense of curiosity than of doom. He took out the packet before he slid the robe from his shoulders casting both upon a chair as he crossed to the hidden ledge that allowed him to overlook the tree tops. The night was coming on fast now, for the days were still short, and the sky was a panorama of colour, trails of crimson light fading into pink and misty blue, and high above the kings' tree the first pale star of the evening was showing. Legolas was no doubt well into the feasting by now and his father sent a silent prayer that there would be no stirring of guilt to mar his pleasure in it.

A sound behind him betrayed that he was no longer alone, and there was only one who would enter without first requesting admission. A sudden scent upon the air told him that Galion had brought tea and warm bread and he turned with a smile realising he had not eaten since the previous evening.

Galion inclined his head slightly  
"You left early my lord and the evening meal is still some time away so I have brought you a sample of the new bread one of the cooks is trying. It's made with autumn honey and some seeds from the area of the forest that the spiders held for many seasons, it must be nigh on Lord Legolas life time since last we could harvest them. They have been drying all winter she tells me and are only now ready for use. It would give her much pleasure if you would partake of this first batch and declare whether it is good or not. There is some of the last of the winter berry tea to accompany it.  
With that he set the tray upon a table and crossed to the hearth to set a light to the tinder already laid there,

Thranduil watched him bustle around for a moment before he turned his gaze back towards the darkening trees.  
"If the taste is near as good as the scent it will be worth the wait." He said softly.  
"Ay my king and I can promise you that it is for I would not have brought it to your table had I not first made sure that was so."  
The kings' smile widened for moment, his back still towards the room, but when he replied his voice betrayed a little of it  
"Indeed, I would expect no less of you."  
"No, my lord." Galion gave no sign that he heard the hint of humour in the kings' beautiful voice. "I have poured you tea and there is a message from Lord Elrond, or so your clerk tells me, and I have placed it beside your cup, along with the one from the chair."

Thranduil turned then to find Galion behind him holding out another robe, one of his favourites, and he allowed himself to be helped into it. As was usual at such times Galion frowned slightly, being more than a head shorter than his Sindar king he could not smooth the garment across that kings' shoulders in the manner he would wish to without making both of them appear ridiculous and so he had bear the sight of the Thranduil gracefully shrugging the robe into place without assistance. The king, as always, seemed oblivious to the difficulty, or his servants' irritation, and was already moving towards the table and the tantalising scent of tea and warm bread.

The letter lay beside his cup as Galion had said but he let it lie, instead he reached for the small spill of parchment that was Elronds' message and smoothed it out. After a moment he raised his eyes and looked towards Galion who was busy laying out his garments for the evening meal in the Hall.

"Lord Elrond expects to be with us by the last full moon of spring, rooms will need to be prepared for him, his foster son, and his equerry; his guard and horses will also need to be accommodated. Ensure that the keeper of the rooms is informed, house them as close to these apartments as can be managed."

Thranduil laid down the sliver of parchment and reached for the butter spreading it thickly on a slice of bread as he continued.

"He plans to travel quickly and as light as possible and so his entourage is unlikely to be large. There should be little difficulty in providing accommodation for them and I expect that most will prefer to be housed within the forest, Elrond will not need a guard whilst he is here, not with the shadow of the enemy gone for the moment, and so there can be little reason for them to remain at his side. If any chose to dwell with him within the Halls it can be so arranged when they arrive."

Galion just inclined his head schooling his face to blankness, hiding his curiosity. The king was unlikely to speak of the reason for this visit to any but the closest of his advisors, if then, and so he would have to wait until the party arrived to discover the reason why the Lord of Madrigals, who had never visited in all the years of their struggle with the enemy, should now find the need to travel east.

He cast a quick look over the robes he had laid out, satisfied they were suitable for the nature of the meal and the season he reached forward to smooth a possible crease from the end of the silver green robe before he moved towards the door. He turned to bow as he prepared to depart to his own pantry and his portion of that delectable bread.

"Dinner is being served in the Willow Hall this evening my Lord if that meets with your approval."  
The king looked up from buttering his next slice of bread and nodded.  
"Very well, but I do not expect my son to return from the river before the morrow, if then, so there is no need for his place to be set. I will join the hall at the third bell of starlight. In the meantime tell the guard that I do not wish to be disturbed."  
"Very good my lord, do you wish me to bring wine?"  
Thranduil waved the suggestion away with an elegant gesture, the cup still in his hand.  
"No this excellent tea will suffice, and pass my thanks and complements to the bread cook for it is all that she promised. We must make sure that we have some ready when Lord Elrond arrives. You may go now."  
Galion bowed again his mind already on his own tea.  
"Yes Sire."  
Then he hurried away.

Alone again Thranduil finished his tea in quiet contentment, the wizards' letter still unread beside his plate. Only when the pot and plate were empty did he reach for it, opening the packet with care and smoothing down the sheets with a gentle hand. For a moment he hesitated staring up at a tapestry on the wall before him with a faint frown, wondering what new trouble might lie in his hand. That there was scope for trouble he did not doubt, Legolas had still not made peace with himself on the matter of Tauriel and Dale but he had made some progress towards acceptance since he had returned home in the dark days of winter still hurting and adrift, and his father would not see him pulled back into that black reverie again. Not that he had any intention of hiding the letter but he wished to prepare himself for whatever further distress it might hold. If the wizard had found against her then it would smite Legolas to the heart, not because of any feeling he had for her, Thranduil was still not sure how much of that remained, and prayed that it was little, but because he would see the nature of his own actions in another, and harsher, light.

He reached forward and touched the white stag in the foreground of the wall hanging with a gentle finger, memories flooding his mind, this scene had been stitched by his wife as she waited for their son's birth and as she watched over the first weeks if his life. He wished with all his heart that she was here now but he had walked with her in his dreams beneath the great beech and felt less lonely than he had for some time, and for the moment he was sure that he knew how she would have advised him.

Yet he as looked down at the letter again a sense of sudden impatience and anger took hold of him, anger that, for all his attempts to put the matter behind them, Tauriel still troubled them in this manner. That even now she might open up the wound again and draw fresh blood, for he was not fool enough, nor fond enough, to believe that the possibility of further hurt was passed. He looked up towards the tapestry again and the anger faded away to be replaced by a sense of sad resignation, he had done the best for her that he could but it seemed that it had not been enough.

Yet he couldn't say where he had erred, for he had taken her in to his house when she was alone and bereft of hope and too young to know the sum of her loss, he had cared for her needs, loved her without trying to be to her those she had lost, taught her and played with her and given her a place of respect from where she could make her own way as she would. There was nothing that he could have done that he had not, at least as far as he could see; and when it had become clear that matters were not as they should he had still sought to find a way for her. For all her foolishness he had not put her from him until the time she had left him with no choice. He smiled sadly at the tapestry hearing his wife's tart words on the matter within his head; if he had made a mistake it was in not curtailing her growing arrogance or her influence on Legolas as soon as he should have done. But he had not expected such an influence nor had there been reason to given that Legolas was an adult before she arrived, nor had he considered that his son would prove unable to see past his fondness to her faults. However there was no point in berating himself for that now; he smiled at the white stag again, nor was there any point in delaying this chore any longer.

With a sudden desire to be done with it he smoothed the paper again and began to read but not in his usual precise and ordered way, now his eyes raced ahead, scanning the sprawling lines and elaborate script rapidly without fully digesting the contents, looking for the words that would tell him what manner of judgement to prepare for. If the Istari had found against her then a way forward would have to be found, though he doubted that there was anything in Lore that might help him. Elves were loyal and the nature of the firstborn meant that their Lords were just, even those few that were not particularly wise. Long memories and their love of kin and the world meant that the cruelty and greed so often seen amongst the lords of men were largely unknown in Elven realms, and actions such as hers were without parallel since the first age. Even there the precedents for her murderous intentions were uncertain, so it was probable that there was nothing that could provide guidance.

He frowned as he read on. If the judgement was of the worst then she would need to be brought back to the forest however he decided to proceed, for in such circumstances he could not leave her free. It seemed she could be destined for the same cell that the dwarf she had become so strangely and abruptly enamoured of had so fatefully occupied.

He paused for a moment and looked back to the tapestry, his thoughts suddenly dark with the shadows of an earlier age. But such conduct not entirely unknown amongst his people, for there had been those amongst the Noldar whose sins far surpassed any committed by his treacherous elf, or a lord of men. Those who had slaughtered their kin for a bauble, who judged any who had not crossed the sea as beneath them, lesser elves over whom they could assume command at will. Was that some part of it; did the blood of the kinslayers run in her? He knew of no Noldar within the Greenwood but it was possible that some stray follower of Feanor's cursed brood had found their way here, hiding from their guilt beneath the trees. Perhaps such a poisonous inheritance was a possible factor in her conduct, but those who might have known were gone to Mandos some time ago..

He pushed the thought away and turned his mind back to the letter in his hand, if Mithrandir had not found against her, or was undecided, then the matter would wait until the summer and his visit to Dale. In that case perhaps no action would be required of him at all beyond that he had already taken. He began to read again, this time with more patience and attention.

He drew a deep breath as his eyes alighted on the words he had been looking for, finally recognising them for what they were.

'My Lord Thranduil it is my regret that I cannot give you the ease if mind you hoped for, yet nor do I have that grave news to share that perhaps we both feared in our hearts."

Thranduil paused for a moment hoping that those words meant what he thought they did, his eyes going back to the tapestry in a silent appeal. The word 'courage' seemed to echo in his head and he returned his gaze to the letter.

"I have spent some time in conversation with your assailant, at the cost of some discomfort to both of us I may add, and have given her justification of herself and her actions much thought. It is with some considerable relief that I can report that I neither saw nor felt any presence of the darkness of the enemy within her, nor of that particular malice that is his alone. I could not sense anything of his abiding hatred for the world in her, nor is her mind tainted in the manner I would expect were she corrupted by the dark one. I can say this with some confidence for I did not spare her, indeed I pressed her and provoked her in a manner most likely to draw out the venom of the enemy if it had entered her, and though she was angry and distressed by my words her responses gave me no sense that she was so tainted. Though I cannot state for certain she is in not in the enemy's thrall only that I felt none of it, and I have known the shadow long enough to believe I would do so. As you too felt no sense of it when she was in your presence I think we should proceed on the premise that whatever her sins she is not a creature of Sauron, at least not at this time."

Thranduil sighed, a sense of relief flowing through him as he raised his eyes once again to the watching white stag with a smile. It was as he had hoped, and he was content to take Gandalfs' judgement as right, for if an Istari could not tell the presence of the enemy in another then who could? Without that certainty, and with no evidence of her alliance with evil, there could be no reason to seek further punishment or confinement for her. She would remain in Dale, his judgement on her would stand as it was, Legolas was to be spared the pain of her being brought back here in greater disgrace, spared further questioning of his own actions.

His eyes narrowed suddenly, but what did that 'at this time' mean? There was another sheet packed with Gandalfs' sprawling hand and so there might be more to be considered, drawing a deep breath he resumed reading,

"Yet I remain uneasy about her, very uneasy, for there is something deeply wrong with her though I cannot truly say what it is that makes me feel this with such certainty. However I do feel it and I would counsel you most strongly to harden your heart against that lingering pity for her that I sensed within you when we spoke of this and resist any desire to return her to the forest, however many centuries have passed. Having talked to her at some length I am left with the feeling that she cannot be trusted, moreover I would caution you to be on your guard if you are caused to be in company with her for there is some malice in her of that I am now sure. Yet that does not alter my opinion of her independence of the enemy for I think her malice to be more personal and petty than that that lives at the heart of the creatures of the dark one. Much though it may pain you to hear it appears, if I read it rightly, to be directed entirely towards you."

Thranduil looked away from the words and stared towards the fire without seeing it. It was as he had expected and yet that made it no easier to read, he had known since the meeting in Dale that some part of her rage belonged to him alone and was not as a result of his words to her at that time, and that nothing he could have done would have changed it. He could have sent a hundred elves to die for her dwarf and that anger would not have been lessened, nor would her bitter determination to tear Legolas from his father and his people. Yet still the pain glowed anew on reading anothers words on the matter and he drew a deep and steadying breath before he returned to Gandalf's script..

'As I have said I questioned her at length and on all matters of the events of the battle and her actions in Dale. She had few answers and fewer explanations for the charges I laid at her door and yet I believed her when she claimed there was no plan, nor firm purpose in her actions. I pressed her most strongly on what drove her down the path she took, of her desertion of her post, her demands of aid for the dwarf and why she challenged you and drew an arrow upon you. Beyond this I showed to her how all those actions might be viewed by others, not just the last, and she seemed most surprised at the interpretations, and having observed her closely I consider that her surprise was genuine and in no way dissembled.'

Thranduil paused again in his reading. Yes, he could picture that, he could imagine the confusion and disbelief on her face as the wizard harried her on the matter, that others' judged things differently had always surprised her, particularly where her own wishes and ambitions were concerned. He recalled again her look when he had reprimanded her on her desire to assault Dol Gulder, that there could be a consideration that was contrary to her own inclinations had first astonished her and then affronted her, he imagined that her response to Gandalfs' questions would have been much the same. With a sigh he looked back down to the letter.

'I gave no quarter I assure you, pressing her on what she thought and felt as much as what she did, yet the questions seemed to bemuse her and her answers were cursory, as if she had not given any thought to the cost of her demands or actions, or indeed to anything other than her own feelings of the moment. It is my reading of the matter that she lacks an honest awareness of the causes of her actions where these deeds are concerned, but the suggestion that she might have been used by Sauron, even unwittingly, filled her with a horror that I would swear was real. But as I have said I am not easy for there is something there that is not as it should be. For she does not feel to me like an elf, for all she looks like one and speaks as one, but I find it hard to explain why that is so.'

Thranduil paused again his brows drawing down into a frown. Though he had never put such words to it he had long had a similar feeling about her, there had been many times that he could recall when he had felt that she was some changeling sent amongst them with the form of an elf but not the spirit or mind of one. He had chided himself for the thought and had set her oddities down to her age and the circumstances of her abandonment. Yet now he wondered if there was something more to it after all for he had not mentioned such feelings to Gandalf when they spoke of her and yet the wizard too felt the discord in her. With a sense of heightened concern he resumed reading.

'Nor is that the only cause of my concern. Whilst I absolve her of alliance with the enemy I had the strong sense of some shadow within her; though I cannot read its source or objective. Though she professes regret at her actions as soon as the matter is raised, and some of this regret I judge to be real, when her guard is down it is clear that much anger and bitterness still burns within her. I confess that as our conversation progressed I found myself unable to trust her words. Not that she lies, for I think that she believes all that she professes to be the truth, at least in the moment that she says it. Yet still there is something which makes me doubt her real meaning, something behind her words that I cannot quite fathom.

As for Thorins nephew Kili, well, like you, I doubt that she truly loved him, and I believe that she might be coming to see that, which might of itself make her dangerous. Indeed I had the impression that she didn't see or understand who he was at all, indeed there were times when I wondered if she even saw him as anything more than a dwarf, as anything real even. There too I feel a simmering resentment towards you, one that may lessen as she understand better the nature of her own heart, or that might do the opposite and worsen over time.

For these reasons I would have you be on your guard when you are near to her, nor to discount the threat she might yet present to your safety, for it was not clear to me how much of this she knows of and how much of her spite she is blind to. There was something of the child about her, something that belies her years and training that I found strange and unlooked for in an elf. It might yet lead her to lay the blame for her loss of her love upon you. I know that you will come to Dale in the summer and that it is your intent to bring your son with you. It is at that time I think the danger will be greatest for though it grieves me to say it I think she still believes that Legolas would defend her should she seek to take some action against you. I know this to be untrue, for I have seen his grief and guilt at his foolish conduct of that time for myself, but she has not and might yet expect his actions to be as they were then.'

Thranduil set the paper down upon the table with another sigh and got to his feet crossing the room to look out at the rapidly advancing night and the deepening shadows of the trees. He did not doubt the wizards' assessment for he had been aware of that childish element within her for some time, just as he had known that something was not right in her make up. Such a strange mix she had been even before the dwarf came, yet his son had seemed blind to it, or unworried by it.. One of his greatest fears had been that Legolas would make some declaration to her and that she would accept him. Her denial of his sons' growing tenderness for her had irritated him in its manner, for they had both known it was dishonest, but it had reassured him, for if Legolas had approached her and she agreed to a bond then there would have been nothing that he could have done to prevent it. His son was of full age and the choice of a wife, if he chose to make it ,was his alone. Elven lore did not allow for a parent to forbid an adult child their choice of partner, not even where the parent was a king, and if he had tried to prevent it they would simply have sworn and consummated their vows alone within the forest and told him afterwards. He would have been forced to watch his sons' unhappiness and his further loss of himself, unable to remedy the matter. Nor would it have been good for the Realm. Perhaps he should thank the Valar that matters fell out as they did.

With another sigh he looked back to the letter.

'As for Legolas, I do not think she will seek his company if he is in Dale but I do not fear any harm to him should they find themselves side by side. I would humbly suggest that if they should find themselves in company that he doesn't mention Kili or his fate, or the events in Dale at all if he can so arrange it. There are times when formality can be a boon and I suggest that this would be one of them. She has forfeited any right to be considered his family and though old friendship cannot and should not be put aside easily in this case it is probably best that wounds are left to fully heal before such relationships are resumed. If indeed they ever can be given the nature of her actions, that is for you and he to decide and I will say no more on the matter.

There is nothing more that I can do for the moment my Lord, only to press caution you again. I leave on the morrow for Erebor and another difficult meeting. It is my hope that the weight of the crown has moderated Dains' temper a little and that matters of which is probably better not to speak here, but of which we are both aware, has taught him to think more deeply before he acts. Yet I can well imagine his feelings at knowing I am in Dale and likely to call upon him. I will bear his hostility with what patience I can muster for it is vital that he is reconciled to the past before Sauron once more roars forth from Mordor. From Erebor I will head west for there are matters there that need my eye upon them, it is my view that you will appreciate what they are.

I will end this missive here my friend, saying nothing more but a plea for you indulgence of my penmanship for it has been some while since I have written on matters of such import for such length. I thank you again for your hospitality, pray that the Valar watch over you, and charge you to enjoy such peace as the time grants you O King of the wood for I doubt our next meeting will be so leisurely.

G'

Thranduil folded the letter and crossed to his strongbox, locking it away safely until Legolas returned. As he turned the key he smiled sadly, thinking of that final salutation..

"As do I O wizard of the west," he said softly; "as do I. But let us hope."


	33. Chapter 33

Putting things to rest

 _A/N Many thanks to those who have sent reviews and my apologies for having not replied to date but a great and unexpected sadness has come into my life which has left me with little energy. Your comments are much appreciated._

'It is with some considerable relief that I can report that I neither saw nor felt any presence of the darkness of the enemy within her, nor of that particular malice that is his alone. I could not sense anything of his abiding hatred for the world in her, nor is her mind tainted in the manner I would expect were she corrupted by the dark one.'

Legolas looked swiftly up and towards his father who was standing with his back to the room staring out across the sunlit tree tops.  
"Then the worst fear may be set aside, he does not think her to be a creature of Sauron." He said softly. "That must relieve your mind for I know how hard it would be for you had he found differently."  
He drew a deep breath and continued before his father could reply.

"How hard it would be for us both if he had so found. I do not know what I would have done had I discovered that I had hurt you as I did in the defence of one who was an ally of the enemy. My sins of that day are great enough, but that weight .. well I do not know if I could have borne it."

"I know." The king replied quietly and without turning, "that has been constantly in my mind since the possibility of something of that ilk first occurred to me. Risking Mithrandir's judgement was the only way to lay those fears to rest, hard though it was. Believe me I thank the Valar that he found the fear unfounded, for I see no reason to doubt his judgement. That part of the matter at least may end here, and with such an ending there is nothing more for me to do. She will remain in Dale, at least for as long as Bard is willing to permit it, and so far as Dain causes no difficulties."

Legolas nodded, sadness driving the relief from his eyes.  
"Will she ever be able to return? To be kept from so much that is dear to her is hard I'm sure.  
His father sighed softly.  
"I do not doubt it, and that is not the sum of what will be hard. The lives of Men are short, those she knows will seem to pass away quickly, something she does not understand, cannot imagine, as yet for she has never lived beside them. I well remember the shock and grief involved in learning the reality of the difference between the first and second born. I will shelter her from it as much as I can, but there is only much that can be done if she seeks to involve herself with the people of Dale beyond my house."  
He sighed again.  
"But as I have said before the choice of her return does not sit with me alone. I have already broached the matter with the law givers and the Council and they were of one mind, she cannot return until our people consider she has served a fair punishment and will accept her back. There is no way of saying when that will be. The time may come when the fate of Men means that another way will have to be found and perhaps then some return to our Realm or some other Elven land will be possible."

He smiled sadly at Legolas and gently shook his head.  
"This is of her creation and cannot be changed by any action on our part. It was her blind certainty in her own rightness, her unwillingness to look beyond her own wishes and desires, that led her to where she is and now we all pay the price. Had her threats to me been less blatant, more open to another interpretation, there might have been other ways, but as matters stand there is little option. Her crime was so very particular that no other Elven Realm would succour her, except perhaps Cirdan, but sending her to him would be true banishment. As it is she has the company of those she knows and has news of home. In time she may win her right to return to the forest, though, as I have said, there is no certainty of that; but then there is little certainty for any of us whilst Sauron remains in Mordor."

Legolas nodded his eyes drifting down to the letter still gripped in his hands. He had left the river settlement at dawn, the knowledge that it had been delivered spurring him to return to his fathers' Halls though the feasting of the new trees was still continuing. He had greatly enjoyed the night, the songs and the dances, the feeling of being part of his peoples' lives again, but as the sun rose he had felt a sudden urge to know the wizards judgement and so he had left his companions and set off alone. Now it seemed that the thing that he had most feared had not come to pass, but then nor could it be that simple for the letter was too long for that. His eyes ran over the important sentence again before he looked up towards his father once more.  
"Yet from the length of this letter I judge that he had more than a simple answer to report, may I read the rest?"Thranduil inclined his head in agreement.  
"Yes, I would hide nothing of this from you for I know the pain it has already cost. But be warned, some of the contents you might find… difficult to read, as I did."

Legolas nodded in silence and resumed reading, yet the silence did not last long for the king heard a sharp intake of breath and then a sigh before his son spoke again, his tone one of horror crossed with despair.  
"He warns you to be on your guard around her, he thinks she remains a threat to your safety! How can that be? The dwarf is dead and it was only the madness of her fancy for him that drove her to such actions."  
Thranduil was silent for a moment then he gave a short shake of his head and turned towards his son,  
"Was it, are you sure of that? I am not. It is true that her behaviour with the orc suggested that her interest in the dwarf had pushed her beyond all restraint and yet I am not sure even that explains her conduct. For how did she expect abandoning her post to aid him if she believed what the orc said to be true? If she accepted that as truth then she believed, as I did, that the dwarf was already dead or very soon would be. Certainly that he was beyond her help.  
He frowned suddenly.  
"Though it is also true that despite all my battles with the foul creatures and their masters in the past I had never before heard of a morgal shaft, a morgal knife yes, but not a shaft, nor does it occur in any Lore that I can find. Just one more strange and ill fitting element in this sorry matter, but it is something I shall ask more of Elrond when he arrives for if the creature did not lie and such things exist then we need to prepare ourselves against them."  
He shrugged the thought away and returned to the matter of Tauriel.

"But having heard the creatures' words on the matter why then did she leave as she did? To aid Thorin and his other companions? To assist the people of Dale? Why when she had no interest in them, nor any concern for them that I have seen evidence of? Perhaps she did not believe what the creature claimed about the dwarf, though she gave violent indications of doing so as you will recall."  
He met his sons' worried eyes with a faint smile.  
"But if she didn't believe it what spurred her hurried departure? She did not know that I intended to seal our borders, nor had the dragon been woken. No, her conduct was strange in too many ways and for that and other reasons Gandalf feels that there is something amiss with her beside her interest in the dwarf, and I am inclined to agree with that. If you read further you will see that he says more on the matter."

Legolas drew a deep breath and returned to reading, not looking up again until he had read down to the final salutation. When he did look up there was a frown on his brow.  
"A shadow within her, I wonder what that means for I have never felt it."  
Catching the fleeting look that clouded his fathers face his frown deepened.  
"You have then, and have some sense of what it might be, as I think you have some insight into why she still might threaten you. Am I correct in that?  
The king inclined his head.  
"Yes, but I cannot say whether my reading of her is correct or a reflection of my own feelings on that matter and so it is best we say nothing more of it. At least for the present."  
Legolas looked at him in silence for a moment before he nodded.  
"Very well, but if it should come to a point where you need to be in her company, and on your guard around her, then I would ask that we do speak of it again."

His eyes drifted down to the letter again and he sighed.  
"Gandalf believes that she thinks I would defend her now as I did then, I do not see how that can be and I am glad that he does not appear to share that view. We talked on this several times when he was here and I hope that he had come to accept that I never meant to excuse her threats to you, nor condone them when I understood what had passed between you." He raised his eyes to meet his fathers' "I can only hope that you are of the same mind in light of his remarks about her malice."  
The king made a hurried and dismissive gesture with his hand but Legolas continued.  
"You know my thoughts on the matter of my own conduct that day, but I would say again that I most deeply regret my actions. The broken bow told me that she had threatened you but still I felt I had to protect her. Yet if I had stopped for a moment to reflect I would have known your words were no threat to her safety but a question of her commitment to the dwarf, and a fair one. Why I did not see that then I still cannot answer, any more than I can now say why I thought she had not meant her threats; but be assured I will not make so foolish and grievous a mistake again."  
His father made another dismissive gesture.  
"I know, my son. Do not berate yourself on that count any more than you have already done."  
Legolas smiled faintly and looked back down to the parchment in his hand as he replied.  
"Yet it is clear that Gandalf considers that her intent was murderous, and I confess that I came to see her actions in a different light even before I returned home, though perhaps I was less willing to believe it then than now. Gandalfs' words do not surprise me as once they would."  
"Often the case with hindsight." His father said with a smile, "one of the more irritating factors of immortality is that there is so much of it."  
Legolas's smile widened.  
"Perhaps." His eyes returned to Gandalf's words and he frowned again. "But what is this about Dain? I recall you telling me of his anger and threats regarding Tauriel but these words hint at something else. What is this that you both know that might have taught Dain to think before he acts?"

Thranduil sighed slightly and turned back towards the trees as he pondered how to reply.  
Legolas knew nothing of Oakenshields' bitter words and accusations after he was captured. Nor did he know of Dain's childish taunting before the mountain or his further insults and anger at their meeting before the funeral of his kin and his own crowning. For the moment it was probably better that remained the case, for Legolas would need to sit alongside Dain at the ceremony of the Battlestone. It would be easier for him not to have to fight that knowledge too at so public an event, for he would be reminded all too harshly of the things he had already come to regret.

Thorin Oakenshield had wreaked as much destruction by his own words as he had by waking a dragon. Thranduils mind drifted back to that evening after the battle, when the cloud blanketed the stars, the snow lay thick on the broken walls and tumbled stones, and all seemed cold and dark. When the poison spread by the madness of Thorin Oakenshield had brought another confrontation and strained the relationship between elf and dwarf further still, much to the wizards' consternation.

They had re-established their camp in Dale and he had returned to his quarters having made the arrangements for the removal of their dead back to the forest. He had been standing at the open tent flap watching the snow swirling in the warm air above the camp fires and wondering if Legolas would follow his prompting and turn north. There were those in the north who would keep him informed of his sons' progress and he had been considering how best to contact them when the sound began to ripple through the camp, the stamp of dwarf boots and the rattle of dwarf mail and the deep growl of one who would have all know his grievances. Dain of the Iron Hills. It had not been a meeting he had expected yet perhaps he should have done for he had seen enough of both Oakenshield and Dain to take the measure of their conduct. Yet still he had been surprised when the dwarf had come storming up to his tent, the wizard on his heels and Bard not far behind, raging that he would not have an elf of any type, king or no, at his nephews' burial rites.

He could recall the weary shadows in Bards face and hear the wizards' protests as they drew closer, the halfling had also been following the dwarf lords wake too, his small good humoured face streaked with tears and his eyes wide with distress. Thranduil remembered the surge of pity he had felt for the little man, recalling his good heart and the brave attempts he had made to avoid the matter coming to a fight. Not that he had ever had much hope of success given the nature of dwarfs in general and of Thorin Oakenshield in particular. Dain had seemed unaware of Bilbos' distress or the weariness of those who followed him and the volume of his protest had not diminished the closer he got. It had been with resignation that he had met the dwarf lords stare as he came to a halt before the guards. With the same feeling that he had signalled them to allow the little party to enter. It had not taken him long to determine that the madness of Thorin Oakenshield was at work again and to end Dains' tirade; for though he might be an impatient and credulous fool he was an honest fool it seemed and he had not shrunk away from the truth when he faced it. The soon to be king under the mountain had left in sombre mood and as chastened as it was probably possible for a dwarf of his cut to be. No he would not welcome meeting the wizard again!

But there was no need for Legolas to know any of that at the moment, though the time might come when it would be best that he did. He waived the question away with a gesture.  
"It is of no importance, it is true there was another complaint from him regarding our treatment of Thorin but it was easily shown to be false. Gandalf was present when Dain made his protest and Dain knows that he will recall it and so will not enjoy the prospect of this new meeting. He did not take easily to being proved wrong in front of the wizard that is all that is meant."

Legolas looked at his father with uncertainty, for the response had been slow in coming and there was something in the tone of his fathers' voice that suggested the matter might have been of more import that he wished to admit. But if that was the case then there would be a reason for it and so for the moment he would ask nothing more.  
"Will the same be the case when we meet in Dale?" He asked  
Thranduils' voice held a weary note as he replied.  
"I expect it will be, but Bard assures me that he has agreed to come and play his part in the ceremony and therefore I assume he is ready to set a guard upon his temper and any lingering hostility he may feel. I understand that he thinks well of Bard and will not wish to cause him embarrassment."  
"What then of Tauriel, will she be part of the guard at the ceremony?"  
"No, that has already been decided and not just on Dains' account. She played no part in the battle and so she will remain at my house whilst the ceremonies take place. Only those who were present on that day, or who stand for them or have some role that takes them there, will be a part of the ceremony or the associated events."

He turned.  
"She deserted her post and abandoned her comrades fighting in the streets and on the plain, for those actions alone it is unthinkable that she be included in the homage to those who died fighting the enemy that day. Even she must see that, and if she didn't I am sure that Gandalf pointed it out to her.  
Legolas looked at him in distress  
"And my right to be there, can you defend that or would it better if I did not attend? I would not cause you further difficulty."  
Thranduil shook his head with a slight smile.  
"You are my son, my heir that alone is reason for you to be there. Your killing of Bolg marks you as a fighter in the battle, why you were where you were need not be discussed. Even if it were you went to Ravenhill as protector of one of our people, one who showed herself to be in need of protection, and that is all the justification needed. Some might consider it ill judged but nothing more than that."

He frowned his eyes lost somewhere other than the room.  
"I still do not understand why one of our warriors needed a dwarf to save her, or why her need resulted in his death. For I would have thought her more skilled in battle than a young dwarf, and one who had a small knowledge of war, for I cannot see where he might have gained it. But then I know little of how matters unfolded, or the chain of events that led to his death, other than that I heard from you.  
Legolas shrugged.  
"I cannot say why she acquitted herself so poorly that the dwarf needed to die in her defence, but that would seem to be the case. Nor am I sure why he was there when Oakenshield was not, for Gandalf told me that he saw them mount the watchtower together, and that he told this to the halfling. That Oakenshield was on Ravenhill I know, for I saw him.. I saw nothing of events between then and the fight with Bolg that I have not already told you."  
"I did not think that you did. My observation was only that I would have expected better of her than what appears to have occurred. But I can understood Dains' fury at the manner of Oakenshields' nephews' death and bore his taunts on the matter accordingly at the time. That will not be mentioned again provided no cause is given, as Gandalf has noted."

Legolas looked down at the wizards scrawling script.  
"Yes, I saw that and I will be on my guard against such comments if we are in company. But I do not foresee the matter arising.  
"No more do I for it is in all our interests that it should be so. Gandalf will have reminded him that with Sauron returned to Mordor we need to be strong allies if not good friends. Dain has fought enough orc and goblin in the yeas of his Lordship of the Iron Hills not to doubt that."

Legolas folded the letter and laid it on the table  
"Then we need not concern ourselves with the matter any more until the time comes to travel to Dale. Let us put it from our minds if we can and concentrate on happier matters. From your comment about the morgal shaft I take it that Lord Elrond will visit soon.Thranduil came back into the room and took his seat, pouring a glass if wine and taking a sip before he responded.  
"Yes, he has sent word that he will be here by the last new moon of spring, in time for the last feast before summer."  
"Has he said more of why he wishes to come?  
"No but the nature of the message precluded any more detail being provided. He will travel with a small party for the path across the mountains offers little danger at the moment. The battle before Erebor destroyed the orc armies and it will be some time yet before those armies can be rebuilt. Without their presence the trolls appear more circumspect in their behaviour than when Gandalf and the Halfling crossed the mountains and any way Elrond will travel only by day."  
"He still brings his foster son?"  
"Yes, which suggests to me that his purpose in coming is in someway related to the boy.  
"But what might that be? Why would he wish to bring a son of Men to visit us?"  
Thranduil sat back in his chair and looked across at Legolas.  
"Of the line of Isildur however, there might be some reason in that. Elrond may have some belief that his future will be of importance and in some way entwined with ours.  
"Isildur! Then he is more a boy than I thought him for he was no more than eighteen when I met him.  
"That is the case but it must be in Elronds' mind to return him to his fathers people once he is grown."  
"Which makes it yet more surprising that he would bring him here does it not?  
"Perhaps, though it is likely that more than twenty springs will pass before Elrond bids him farewell."

There was a musing note in the kings' voice that caused his son to give him a long look.  
"I think that you believe there is some import in this visit."  
The king nodded and looked up with troubled eyes.  
"Yes. I cannot rid my mind of the notion that there is some portent in a descendant of Isidur being in the house of Elrond at the time that Sauron returns to Mordor."


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N_

 _Thank you again to those who so kindly commented on the last chapter and for the good wishes. I will respond to those who I can PM when I am in a slightly better place, for the moment sadness is still weighing me down. This chapter is short in part for that reason and also because it is a transition chapter in many comments are much appreciated and valued._

 **Doubts and choices**

Spring continued gentle in the lands west of the Misty Mountains and though the days were still short they were kind and the nights were free of frost earlier than in many years. So as Elrond looked out towards the valley the vista was one of soft green dappled with butter yellow sunlight and the many pastel hues of the early flowers. He smiled softly and wondered if the weather would be so kind in the mountain pass and on the Wild lands beyond the mountains. Not that it mattered, the decision was made.

In the courtyard the bustle of last minute preparations could be heard, for even so small a retinue could not travel so far without some goods and chattels, not even elves, and certainly not when crossing the mountains. His scouts told him that the snows were already well melted and the wider passes were free from ice and debris, and since the battle of the five armies using those wider passes involved far less danger than once it would have done. He sighed as he thought of it, for Thranduils' people had paid the price of that change, just as they had for containing the shadow of Dol Guldur, a price that neither he nor Celeborn had shared. The thought made him wonder once again about his reason for travel and what type of reception he could expect. The King of Mirkwood had bid him come but that did not mean that he would be welcomed with open arms, nor had he any right to expect that he would be.

His mouth twisted in a wry smile as he looked down to his hand, no doubt Thranduil knew quite well what guarded the peace and beauty of Imladris though it never had been mentioned, nor ever would be, just as he would never mention the reason that Lothlorien shared a similar protection. But he would know and that knowing would always stand between them.

With a deep sigh he twisted the ring from his finger and set it in the box that sat open before him staring down at it for a moment with a frown. He could not take the ring from Imladris, not even now whilst peace appeared to reign. It must remain safely here for he could not risk it falling into the hands of the enemy, and the enemy was not yet defeated. But how would Thranduil interpret his leaving of it? For he could not hope that the king would be unaware of it's' absence and yet nor could he ask. This simple and necessary act could be seen as an insult of considerable proportion, particularly if it could not be openly discussed, in fact it was hard to see how it could be viewed any other way. What would that mean for his request? Standing here looking down at the ring he found himself wondering if he had the right to ask anything of Thranduil at all and if the journey was worth the risk, for risk there was even if less than before the battle for Erebor.

His thought was broken by the sound of Estels' voice calling to one of the guards and he sighed again, there was no choice, not if his vision of the future that might be proved true; if that came to pass then it was worth risking the scorn and anger of the Elvenking, for the happiness of many might hang in the balance.

With another deep sigh he closed the box and locked it and set it in the drawer beside the letter addressed to Glorfindel. The letters to his children he placed in the other drawer and locked the desk, should anything happen to him on the road Glorfindel had the spare key and would ensure that the letters were found. With one last look around the room he picked up his travelling cloak and went to join the party in the courtyard

xxx

A soft wind ruffled the leaves and grasses and above the trees a stream of hazy clouds drifted in a pale blue sky. Light danced across the glades and around the trees, sharpening the edges of the shadows beneath their branches. Out in the deepest parts of the wood where once the spiders had spun their webs the venom blackened soil were being cleansed by ant and worm and beetle and what was left was being reclaimed by moss and wild flower. The kings' magic was spreading out more widely now cleansing what the forests inhabitants could not scattering the last coils of the shadow. The streams and springs ran clear now and the sense of evil that had curled its tendrils around the trees stifling the life in them was being driven away before that enchantment like an early mist before the strengthening sun.

The elf that wandered in the sunlight was alone, his stride was long and vigorous but there was no sense of haste about his progress, in fact he stopped by many a bush and young tree to touch a leaf or stroke a flower petal. His hair was as pale as the celandine that peeped from the grass and his alabaster skin as perfect and glowing as the white bells that bloomed within the glade. His smile was soft and his eyes glowed with a light that sprang from within him, only a hint of sadness in his glance when he looked up at towering trees above him betrayed that some sorrow lurked within him.

Legolas had spent the early part of the day at the butts and the pocked marked targets reassured him that the damage to his skills wrought by the seasons upon the road was all but repaired. With a sigh of satisfaction he had gathered up the last spent arrow and turned back towards his fathers' palace and the siren call of new baked bread and the last of the autumn cheese. Spring was striding towards summer with only the odd cool mist and sudden squall of rain a testament to the stage of the seasons and this day was one in a chain of days that felt as if the shadow had never been.

The pathway to the palace was wide and well trodden and the clipped grass beneath his feet was lit by shafts of the morning sun. In the glades beyond the path spring flowers bloomed in soft shades of blues and yellows, colours that adorned his fathers crown and were echoed in his robes. He had walked down to the targets with his fathers' steward who had heard of a sighting of a particularly prized spring bloom and had gone in search of just one flower to adorn that crown. Legolas wondered briefly if he had found it as he let his fingers trail gently over a catkin string then he turned his face towards the sun and sighed with pleasure. He stood for a moment with eyes closed listening to the bird song his heart swelling with joy at the sound of it. But even in this moment that hint of sorrow fluttered in his heart for though the bird song was sweet he still could not hear the song of the forest, the voice of the trees. Something he still had not shared with his father, though there were times when he caught his father looking at him when they stood together watching the stars above the trees and wondered if his parent had deduced that was the case.

He shook the thought away and continued his journey towards breakfast.

There was no court being held today and so the palace was quiet, guards stood at their posts and housekeepers and messengers bustled about their business with an air of purpose but the paths that led across the great vault and towards the Hall of Audience were quiet. He passed the outer chamber, where on court days those wishing to speak to or set a case before the king would gather, but today the only occupants were the guards at the great wooden doors. He saluted them and continued on up the sloping walkway that led to his quarters concerned only to find Galion.

"My Lord." The voice came from behind him and he turned to face one of palace messengers, he was holding out a small packet of parchment,  
"A guard returning from the garrison at Dale has brought this from another of our guards there, it is addressed to you."

Legolas felt his heart jolt for he had no doubt as to who had sent it, he was not in correspondence with any on there and official letters would go to his father or via his secretary, nor he suspected did the messenger. But his father had taught him well and no sense of his shock could be read in his face or voice as he held out his hand with a faint smile.  
"Thank you, since we know its source I assume I need have no hesitation in taking it?  
The messenger returned the smile.  
"No my Lord, it has been passed from guard to guard, it carries no threat."  
With that he headed over the small package and after a small bow turned and returned from where he came.

For a moment Legolas stood and weighted the letter in his hand wondering why she had chosen to contact him in this manner, for the guard who had sent this could only be Ariel. Perhaps she had just discovered his return for he had given no instruction that she should be informed and he doubted that his father had, but a small voice whispered that it was more likely to be related to the visit of the wizard. With a sigh he turned the packet over in his hands before he turned and headed towards his rooms.

Xxx

"You delivered the letter to my son?"  
"Yes Sire as you instructed."  
Thranduil inclined his head in thanks.  
"Then there is nothing more for you to do on the matter."  
"No my lord, do you wish your instructions with respect to Tauriel to continue unchanged?"  
"Yes, there is no reason for anything to change."  
"Very well my Lord."  
With that the messenger inclined his head to his king and turned to resume the normal course of his duties.

Thranduil stood for a moment staring at the tapestry on the wall, he had hoped that she would make no attempt to contact Legolas until they visited Dale but he had known that Mithrandir's interrogation might spur her to earlier action and it seemed that it had. She must have known that others would report her action to him but that had not deterred her, what was it that she had felt compelled to write? He sighed, he could have read her letter before passing it on, he was within his right as king to do so, but he would never have abused his sons trust in such manner and she would have not expected that he would. Therefore he would have to wait for Legolas to tell him as much or as little as he chose. If he so chose, and given the circumstances he might not.

Thranduil sighed again, it was a pity it had come now, today, for Legolas had seemed so much recovered in spirits since they had received the wizards letter; not quite the elf he had been before Tauriel had twisted his life and his spirit but closer than he had been since he had returned home. His father hoped that whatever she had to say would not stoke the fires of his sons' guilt again for they were not yet cold, but he had no trust in that given Mithrandirs' words and all she had done before. It was very probable that she would give as little thought to the effect her words might have on Legolas now than she had to the effects of her actions on others then.

But he would be patient if they had to start again then they would do so, if it took centuries he would help his son to find himself again.

Xxx

Legolas stared out at the tree tops, the letter still in his hand and wondered what he should do. The words she had written echoed in his head as if he had heard rather than read them and he had read them so many times in the short period since he had gained the sanctuary of his rooms that he could already recite them from memory.

"My Lord I know that I have been the source of some estrangement between your self and the king, your father, and I wish you to know that such estrangement causes me much regret for it was never my desire or intention. If it is possible I would ask that you visit me in Dale so that I might explain in person how I came to follow the course I did, for though I have tried many times in the writing of this letter the words will not come when faced only with an expanse of paper. I wish I had been able to speak with you before you left after the battle but as you know that was not possible"

Legolas gave a small and bitter smile as the words ran through his head, seeing again her tears for the fallen dwarf, her grief so all encompassing that she hadn't been aware of his presence. What had she expected him to do he wondered? Return to the people he had abandoned to defend her, to argue her case with the father he had slighted and abused? Perhaps she had, perhaps she had given as little importance to his fate as she had to the life of his father. He looked down at the letter again and reread her plea, the real purpose in her writing he thought.

"I understand that you will visit with the king in the summer for the celebrations but if it can be managed I would wish that we could meet before that time for I doubt that the king will allow any contact between us if he can prevent it. Indeed I doubt the king will allow me any place in the ceremonies at all, that pain I will bear as best I may but to have to be so close to you without having had a chance to make such peace as I can will be a further hurt I would spare us both.

It is not possible that I come to the forest for that is forbidden and I am closely watched I know, but if you could find a way to visit Dale, or seek absence from your fathers Halls for a short period, I can find a place within the City or close by where we could meet for a short time without being observed.

I do not doubt that your father is aware that I have written, yet I do not think that he will read it unless you give it to him and I do not think he will demand or expect that you do so. Therefore there is no need for him to know of any meeting between us If he does then I do not doubt that he will prevent it and so I beg you not to tell him or show this letter, the rest of my words you may report as you will but this request I entreat you not to share. For the same reason I ask that when you reply you do not do so to your fathers house, there is an inn, the Rising Sun in Chandlers Street that will receive it for me, for I have done the lady of the house a Street that will receive it for me, for I have done the lady of the house a service or two and she will act as a go between in this matter."

With a sigh he put the letter down and crossed to the table pulling paper, pen and ink from the shelf above it and began to compose his reply.


	35. Chapter 35

**The journey continues**

 _A/N To those kind readers who have reviewed and to whom I cannot send a PM, thank you it is most appreciated._

Dinner had been a private family affair at Legolas request and, though he had been careful to give no sign of it, his father had been relieved for it must mean that his son had something he wanted to say beyond the hearing of others. He could think of only one matter that might inspire such caution.

There had been five sunrises since the letter from Dale had been delivered to Legolas, and three of them since the reply had been sent, that much he knew, yet so far there had been no mention of either between them. Thranduil had no intention of asking, either about the letter or the reply, and if Legolas chose to say nothing of the matter then he would accept it; but he could not help but hope that the trust he had so painfully rebuilt between them was enough that Legolas would wish to make some reference to it. So far he had been silent on the matter.  
But as dinner progressed it was clear that there was some tension within Legolas that was growing even as they discussed day to day matters and then the developing plans for the final spring feast and for Elronds' visit. It was the latter that seemed to give him the spur to mention the letter, though he approached the matter by a winding road.  
"Does Lord Elrond plan to visit Dain, or Dale, when he leaves us?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"I believe not, though he has no reason to be explicit on the matter to me. I think that his plan is to travel to Lothlorien and then turn for home. He will wish to be back west of the mountains before the first snows which will give him little time to venture further east."Legolas had frowned at the fruit on the plate before him as if it was in some way the cause of Elronds' intentions.  
"It surprises me that he does not think to take this opportunity to make the acquaintance of Dain and Bard." He said with a hint of disapproval.  
His father smiled slightly.  
"The health of the Lady is more likely to be of concern to him, for he was there when Sauron was banished and saw how much it hurt her, it is natural enough that is of more interest. But it is also true that the safety of the north and east has never been a matter of pressing concern to him. He is more likely to look further west and. like Mithrandir, to worry more about the Shire and the lands towards the havens, for that are the route to the ships and the west followed by his people."

Legolas frown deepened.  
"Yet if the shadow rises again it will be east of the mountains where it will need to be fought, here as well as in Gondor and Rohan. Would it not serve him well to make himself known to those that might be his closest allies?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"If the armies of Sauron march then Imladris will be as much at risk as any, and Erebor and Dale will be too far to give aid, even if they were able and willing. Be in no doubt Legolas it will be the Elven Realms that Saurons' armies from the east will seek to destroy first, for with them gone there will be no barrier to sweeping west to the Shire and beyond. The Realms of men to the south will come later unless some pressing matter arises."  
Legolas smiled a weary smile.  
"This is why you swell our armories with such fervor."  
His father inclined his head but said nothing more.

There was silence between them for a moment, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the soft clink of platters as Galion fussed with something on the side table. Thranduil raised his eyes and caught Galions' glance, without a word the other elf bowed his head and slid from the room. His going seemed to ease Legolas's hesitation just as his father had expected that it would and he seemed to take a deep breath before speaking again.  
"Speaking of Dale, I received a letter some days past, a letter from the garrison, from Tauriel."  
He paused but when his father remained silent he continued, though the words came slowly and with some effort.  
"She requested a meeting with me, now rather than when we go to Dale for the celebrations."  
He drew another deep breath.  
"She wanted me to do so without your knowing and proposed a place where we could meet in secret."  
He watched his fathers face closely as he went on.  
"She did not say what the purpose of this meeting was to be, other than she wished to explain to me her actions of seven winters ago. The reason for the secrecy was that she did not believe that you would permit such a meeting."  
Thranduil remained silent but sympathy showed in his expression and at the sight of it Legolas sighed.  
"What she thinks could have any meaning now for either of us I do not know." He looked down at his hands, "I suspect it is the conversation between her and Mithrandir that caused her to write, though it may be that until that time she did not know I had returned. Be that as it may what is there for us to speak of? She abandoned her home and her loyalties to her kin to pursue a dwarf she barely knew, how can the why of that matter more than the what? Nothing can erase what was done."  
If Thranduil read the wealth of unspoken meaning behind the words he gave no sign of it and his expression of patient sympathy did not change as he waited for his son to continue.

After a moment Legolas sighed again and went on softly.  
"Certainly nothing that could be so pressing that it couldn't wait until summer; and nothing that could demand such devious machination." He smiled sadly, "which is how I replied. I have said that if she wishes to speak of it with me when we are in Dale for the celebrations then I will meet with her and with your knowledge, and I hope your blessing."  
Thranduil inclined his head.  
"If you truly wish to meet with her then I will not oppose it however you chose to do it. But I would counsel you to be careful about how and when you meet with Tauriel. Meeting her openly, with my approval and in my house, is unlikely to raise much comment, for you and she had been as brother and sister and despite her transgression none would expect that you denied her existence. But be on your guard against anything that hints at disloyalty or duplicity, she may not understand the consequences of her actions and how others might judge it and so you must be wise for both of you."He paused for a moment, taking a sip of wine, and then he looked at his son with compassion.

"If you wish to speak with her before we travel to Dale for the celebrations then tell me now for there ar  
opportunities to facilitate it without causing undue comment. Elrond's impending visit is one such and you could make the journey and back again before he can be expected to arrive."  
Legolas smiled and shook his head.  
"No, I have no such wish, though I will confess to some curiosity as to her intentions. I have asked her to inform me if there is any urgency to our meeting in my reply, and I have told her of the expected visit, if she has particular concerns she may write to me of them and I have undertaken to reply. But as for meeting with her I am content to wait until the summer unless there is anything of substance in her next letter."

Thranduil considered that for a moment wondering how best to frame his response. He shrugged trying to hide his own suspicions of her reasons.  
"I doubt that she will write anything of substance. As for her purpose in meeting with you, there can be only one likely reason for that, she wishes to judge for herself the degree to which you still view her actions, and hence her current plight, with sympathy. No doubt she wishes to be convinced that you have not suffered for your defense of her but she will also wish to see how much she might rely upon you to act as her advocate."  
Legolas look at him in surprise.  
"Her advocate? Why should she need one? Has she reason to think you might change your mind about her fate?"  
The king sighed.  
"She may have taken the wizards visit as an indication of such, though he assured me that he would give no cause for her to think it unless he judged her guilty."  
He reached for his glass frowning slightly.  
"Thinking of his letter, their conversation as he reported it would have given her some food for thought, and so her approach to you may be an attempt to fend off such self searching. What she wishes of you may be nothing more than a source of reassurance of her virtue in the matter." He met his sons' eyes. "Remember that she has had no news of you since Ravenhill. When I spoke to her in Dale I made no mention of your departure, she will have learned of it of course for I did not forbid it being mentioned but she will not know the reasons for your leaving, nor the detail of your return."

Legolas echoed the frown.  
"Certainly her letter to me suggested a belief that matters continued to be stained between us. That some distance, some coldness lies between us. It may be that all she seeks is to be assured that such the estrangement is resolved. I would not wish her to continue to believe it, for it must be a source of further grief to her. "  
Thranduil repressed the surge of anger those words sent through him, 'more likely she seeks to reignite it' he though bitterly, but no hint of that anger showed as he responded.  
"Well perhaps it is to be expected when she has spoken to neither of us since that time."  
Legolas considered that.  
"Perhaps I should write to her again and assure her that you and I have made our peace and that she need not torment herself on that matter."  
The king guarded his expression at that remark, careful not to show the difference in his own reading of the situation for there was much about Tauriels' actions he still had not broached with his son and he remained reluctant to do so.  
"Perhaps, " he said gently, "but it might be best to wait to see how she responds first, after all we do not know what she believes on the matter, and she does not live so secluded that she will have no knowledge at all of what happens here. I think she will have known of your return for some time and be aware that no action against you has followed upon that return."

"Then I see no reason for her to ask for secrecy in our meeting."  
Thranduil saw the uncertainty in his face and cursed silently, he would not allow any action by Tauriel to poison his son's still fragile peace and so he smiled and shrugged gracefully.  
"I doubt there was any important reason for it, but that you were correct that she thinks I might forbid it, or perhaps that you would not wish to ask for my agreement so soon after your return. Gandalf may have said something to make her think this for he can be a difficult informant for those not used to his conversation."  
Legolas laughed lightly at his father's words and the wry expression that accompanied them...  
"That is true. I can well imagine that he left her more than a little confused, I have felt the same on occasions when in his company. Very well I will wait until I receive her response, assuming that she writes again given my refusal."  
The king looked down into his wine and spoke quietly  
"Oh I think she will, and if you wish to travel to Dale to meet her at my house you have my agreement to do so. But I would ask that you do not make a long stay and that you are here during Elrond's visit, I do not think it will be of long duration. If you decide to wait until the summer celebration I will ensure that you are given ample time to meet with her and a suitable place to do so. But do not feel that you must wait if she sends some reason for the meeting to take place sooner."  
Legolas inclined his head with a smile.  
"Thank you, I cannot deny her the request and yet I know that any contact with her must cause you grief. For that I am sorry, I do not wish to cause further pain and so I ask for your understanding. "  
Thranduil waved the apology away.  
"Do not concern yourself on that score; for I have always known that some further meeting and discussion between you two was inevitable and well understand why you feel as you do. I would not ask you to do otherwise."

With that he turned the conversation back to Elrond's visit and the entertainment of his foster son; nothing more was said of Tauriel or her letter.

xxx

The scouts had been right and the mountain passes were largely free of snow and ice allowing Elronds' party to ride for much of the time only dismounting to lead their horses through the rare remaining drifts, or in the places where the winter weather had tumbled rock slides across the winding path that was the fastest route through this part of the mountains. The temperature fell as they climbed higher, snow could still be seen on the slopes above them and the wind that whistled through many of the passes still had the power to bite at exposed flesh, it caused the mortal member of the party to shiver and pull his heavy cloak closer about him.

Yet for all the winds edge the weather was far kinder than at such a time in most years and they made good time only stopping to rest when the pack horses showed signs of weariness or when the light declined enough to put the horses at risk of tripping. Though the outriders traveled with weapons at the ready they encountered neither Orc nor troll, and their nights around the camp fire were peaceful and untroubled.

Barely a week after they entered the western foothills of the Misty Mountains they were cresting the last line of peaks and seeing the Wilderland laid out beneath them. In the distance the great river glittered silver under a bright afternoon sun and beyond it, on the horizon, the dark shadow that was the outer edge of Greenwood the Great could be just seen by human sight. It stretched as far as even elvish eyes could see in both directions.

It had been more than two millennia since Elrond had traveled this far to the east and for a moment he was taken by a sense of shock at the sight before them for he had forgotten the extent of the great forest. Beside him his foster son stared wide eyed at the panorama.  
"So big! I had not thought that the Greenwood forest would be so big, at least if that shadow is the forest."  
Elrond smiled at him.  
"Yes, the shadow you can see is the outer edge of the forest, and in places it is as wide as it is long."  
The youth stared at the horizon with surprise.  
"Then the Elvenkings' Realm is much bigger than Imladris? I had not realized that would be so."  
Elrond nodded.  
"Oh yes, Thranduils' Realm is far larger than Imladris, larger than it and Lothlorien combined in fact. Though he never ruled over all the forest, and his realm is smaller since the shadow returned to Dol Guldar and they moved north. Once his Realm covered a good part of Greenwood the Great and was truly vast but the evil has forced them from all of the south forest and now the Woodland Realm is confined to the northern section, but even so it is by far the largest elvish realm remaining, and one of the largest there has been since the first age."

For a moment they both continued to look towards the shadow on the horizon in silence then the child of men looked back towards his foster father.  
"How long will it take us to reach his lands?"  
Elrond was still looking out towards the east but he replied without hesitation.  
"About half a cycle of the moon. Another day or so on this road will take us to the main pass out of the mountains and then another day or a little more to descend to the plain and leave the foothills, then a week to reach the forest gate provided we have no difficulty in crossing the river. Possibly another few days through the forest, Thranduils' people will meet us at the forest gate and provide us with an escort down the shortest route to his Halls."  
"He will not allow us to travel unescorted? Why, does he not trust us even though we come at his invitation?"  
Elrond shook his head.  
"We would not be safe if we tried to travel that road alone, even with the kings' goodwill and the shadow lifted. The forest is a dangerous place even with the Necromancer gone and it is made all the more dangerous by Thranduils' protective enchantments. Or so Mithrandir tells me. The road has been kept clear by the kings' influence even in the darkest of days but in places it is twisting and hard to follow and if you leave it then it is likely you will become lost among the trees and never find it again, as the dwarfs discovered. If the wood elves do not find you then it is possible to wander endlessly in the dark places of the forest and never escape. Though it is not likely that would happen to us Thranduil will not risk the possibility of mishap and so he will have us escorted, for which I am most thankful."

That brought a startled look.  
"Enchantments? The king has some power then?"  
Elrond hesitated for a moment, wondering what best to say; eventually he shrugged, his grey eyes drifting back to the shadow of the forest.  
"I believe so, though I know nothing of the nature and source of it. Thranduil is something of an enigma even to his peers. Since the coming of the shadow to the fortress in the south few have visited his Realm and he has had little time to spare to venture beyond his borders. Most of his attention has been upon protecting his people and holding back the power of the Necromancer, and he ceased to join the Council several centuries ago."  
He paused for a moment his mind going back to that last meeting the Elvenking had graced; wondering what might have changed had they paid more attention to his concerns. He pushed the thought away and turned to the youth beside him with a smile.  
"As I said there are dangers in the forest even now."  
"The Elvenkings magic? What sort of dangers?"  
Elrond gave him a long and serious look.  
"There are many I am told though I could not list them. However I do know that the river that runs through the forest and before the kings gate is enchanted and should be treated with great caution, they say its water causes sleep and vivid dreams, but the source of the spell that lies upon it not even Mithrandir knows. The wood elves themselves have strong magic and can deprive a person of their wits with little effort, yet there is more than that at work in the forest. Thranduil himself is Sindar not sylvan and he has all the skills of the elves that went over the mountains towards the west, and I would expect that he has learned all his people know and more during the days of his reign. Certainly it is his power that holds his gates and once you are within them you can only leave with his permission. Something none of us should forget. "  
"The guards say that he lives beneath the ground, that his realm is contained within stone, a strange thing for an elf. Is it true?"  
Elrond smiled.  
"There are many stories about the king of the wood, most of them nothing more than empty and childish gossip that you need not concern yourself with. But that one has some truth for his Halls are indeed built within stone, they are within a large complex of caves in a mountain covered with trees, just as Menegroth was long ago. But his Halls of stone are his palace, the treasure house of his Realm, and the stronghold of his people at time of danger and against their enemies. Only those who serve within his Palace guard or have some official role within his government or Council are required to live within the palace. His people live within the forest for most of the time, either in the trees as they do in Lothlorien, or in houses on the ground. Settlements extend as far east as the River Running, and in the days before the dragon they were as far north as the Lonely Mountain. "  
Elrond gave his foster son a long look.  
"Though I believe it also houses the workshops of the smiths and his armory which I Mithrandir says is considerable. Thranduil is in many ways a warrior king, you should not forget that whilst we are there."

The youth nodded.  
"He fought at the gates Mordor with you did he not?"  
Elrond nodded slowly, his expression somber.  
"Yes. He came to Dagorlad as a prince and left it as a king having seen his father fall before the black gates. He stayed and fought even then, and his people paid a high price for their loyalty and bravery. They might have repudiated him given their losses but their love and respect for him was and remains strong, as it was for his father before him."  
He looked back towards the shadow of the forest.  
"He has reigned for the whole of this age in times of light and times of darkness, few can claim to have done as much; it is for this reason that we travel to meet him, for there is something I would request of him for none is as well qualified to provide what is needed than he."  
Elrond looked back towards the youth again with a faint smile.  
"His knowledge is wide and he has many informants to ensure that he knows most of what is going on in the world. Do not be seduced into thinking the separation of his Realm from others means that he is unconcerned with the world and its' doings. Though he might seem to suggest it if it serves his purpose. He cares for his forest and his people deeply and defends them with his skill, his wit and his own power. Yet few can claim to know him."

The youth stared towards the horizon with a frown.  
"He sounds most strange and formidable."  
Elrond nodded.  
"I cannot testify to strange but formidable most certainly." He said softly.  
With that he urged his horse forward.


	36. Chapter 36

The Reply

Tauriel finished her watch as the city bell chimed the start of the fourth hour after midday, the bright light of the spring day was starting to fail as she left her post at the gate and turned towards the Elvenkings' house. Pulling off her helm she skirted the impressive frontage and walked through the gardens towards the garrison lodgings, once there she made her way up the stairs and turned into the room that housed her sleeping quarters. Closing the door behind her she drew aside the curtains that enclosed her small private space and entered, tossing her helm and weapons onto the narrow bed before laying aside her heavy cape and unbuckling her armored jacket. This room accommodated four of the guards, each having a corner of it, but at the moment she was the only occupant and so she didn't bother to close the curtains again before sitting down on the trunk at the bottom of the bed to change her boots for soft shoes.

As she bent forward her eyes came to rest upon a square of parchment lying upon the pillow, she stilled for a moment the sight of it seeming to cause a band of iron to tighten around her chest squeezing the breath from her lungs. She drew a deep breath and continued to remove her boots placing them tidily at the foot of the bed, staring at the pillow and its unexpected addition whilst she slipped on her shoes, her mind torn between the hope that it was a reply from Legolas and the fear that it might be.

She straightened and after a moment of silent consideration she rose and reached forward to pick it up. It was addressed to her by name in a flowing script she thought she recognised, turning it over any lingering uncertainty about its origin disappeared for it was sealed with blue wax into which Legolas had impressed his seal. Tauriel stared at the seal, the band around her chest tightening further as she did so, the letter must have been brought up by the raft elves or by one of the regular supply wagons to have reached her so quickly. This realization caused her heart to sink, that Legolas had applied his seal and then handed his letter to such a messenger could only mean that he had rejected her plea for a secret meeting. And that almost certainly meant that he had informed his father of her letter, and probably of her request for a meeting with him too, that thought caused a further wave of despair to wash over her for she could not think that the king would permit it.

Drawing a deep breath she broke the wax and unfolded the parchment, there were two sheets covered with the same flowing script so it wasn't a simple refusal, but what else could he have found to say? She was about to sit down when the sound of boots on the wooden stair betrayed the return of her room mates, not wishing to read it in company she quickly folded the letter again and tucked it into her tunic then she grabbed her cloak and moved forward towards the door. With a smile and a dip of her head she acknowledged her fellow guards as they entered the room then slipped past them and stepped quickly down the stairs and out across the stable yard and towards the gate and the street beyond.

xx

Turning away from the Elvenkings' house Tauriel made her way quickly through the busy streets to the large square before the new wool exchange. The shadows were lengthening within the walled space but the crowds had barely thinned from the post noon throng; many of the farmers and merchants had not yet departed to their lodgings and homes and were gathered in small groups drinking ale and sharing gossip. Among them were a small number of dwarfs, some if not all of who would be from Erebor, merchants looking for woollen cloth from which to make the rails of cloaks and tunics that the growing population of Dains' mountain kingdom required. It was unlikely that any of them were of Thorins' company, or of Dain's guard, but they still had tongues to carry news back to the mountain, back to someone who might make other use of it. With a sigh she pulled her hood up and held it close about her face turning away when a dwarf passed close enough to recognize her as elf.

On the edge of the square a vendor was selling the last of the autumn chestnuts, shelled, roasted and rolled in a sweet butter, and she bought a small portion and settled herself on a little bench not far from the stall, a seat shielded from the sight of much of the square. Setting her little twist of chestnuts beside her she pulled out the letter and began to read.

'My dear Tauriel, I hope this letter finds you well.

I confess that your missive was unexpected for I did not know if you had heard the news of my return. For myself I thought it best to wait a while before attempting any communication between us and so made no move to draw your attention to my return.. Perhaps this was cowardice on my part but my travels had not eased my heart nor resolved my confusion on the matters of the days before the battle or the events in Dale. Instead my mind remained riven with uncertainty and guilt and I could not think what we could say to each other, or what words I might have that would ease your pain.'

She sighed and looked up for a moment, staring towards the deepening blue of the sky her thoughts slipping back to that day. She had regrets and one of the greatest was that she had not taken time to speak with him before he left, that she had not put her grief aside long enough to make Legolas a fair goodbye. She had not asked his father for news of him, something she was sure the king had not forgotten, nor had she gone looking for him when they had taken Kilis' body away to lie beside his brother and his uncle. She wished now that she had, that she had sought him out to thank him for his care for her, but she had not and nothing could change that. With another sigh she resumed reading.

'My father has told me some of what happened in the days after the battle and a little of what passed between you before he left Dale, though I suspect that there is much he has not said, more for my sake, or yours, than his. Do not fear that he has been indiscreet or spoken on anything you would not wish spoken of, but he understood that I needed to know of your fate if I was to find any peace. My travels had taught me that our actions of that day would have been viewed most seriously by others and with little sympathy, and though I trusted to my fathers compassion and care of you I understood as I had not before that your fate would not sit entirely within his gift. He said only enough to reassure me that all that could be done to protect you from the worst consequences of your actions had been done and that your life had not been forfeit; nor had you been cast out and left to wander the world alone and without support as I confess I feared might prove to be the case.

But while I am glad beyond measure that your punishment has not been as harsh as I once feared it must be I know that will not diminish your sense of what is lost. The dwarf is gone, buried in stone with his kin in the mountain he came to reclaim, a place I understand that you cannot go. A prohibition which, unavoidable as it seems to be, must cause you considerable pain, and for that I grieve.'

Tauriel swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight, and her hand sought for the stone within her pocket. It was true that being forbidden entry to the mountain, being prevented from showing her grief at his tomb, had been one of the most difficult thing to bear in the days after the battle. She had not been allowed to see him once they had taken his body from Ravenhill and she had been barred from the funeral rites, though the king had attended them she had not been allowed to form a part of his escort. Nor had she been allowed to visit in the time since, Dain had made his thoughts on the matter very clear, or so Lord Bard had told her, she was forbidden to set food upon the road to Erebor, or to go beyond the environs of Dale, unless commanded by her king. Something else that it seemed could not be changed. Drawing a deep breath she returned to the letter.

'It must also be hard for you to be unable to return to the forest, more so now that the shadow has withdrawn and the trees recover and joy returns. Perhaps in time that banishment might be changed but for the moment you must draw comfort from still being amongst your kin and with frequent news of your friends and comrades of the past.

I would have you know that you are often in my thoughts and that I do not lay any blame for my actions at your door. If there is any way in which I can ease the pain that I do not doubt you feel without further grieving others then tell me what I might do.'

Tauriel looked up from the words, tears misting her eyes. If only he could, but she knew that was no longer the case and that no action, no intervention, on his part would change the future that stretched before her. He could not set aside the bitterness of his father, nor the distrust of their kin, and while that continued then nothing could change her fate. It had taken Mithrandir to make her see it but finally she understood that her actions would cast a long shadow and that the king could not change it, even if he wished to. Blinking away the tears she looked back down to the letter in her hand with little doubt now about what else it would contain.

It proved to be as she expected.

'But for all that I am unable to grant your request for a clandestine meeting, nor do I understand why you ask it of me. Though this might seem a harsh decision on my part be assured I take it with both our interests in mind, for were such a meeting to be discovered the likely interpretation of our actions by others would be unfavourable. Few, if any, would believe that there could be an honorable reason for us to meet in such a way, and why should they? Were we to be discovered meeting in secret there would be nothing my father could do to shield us. Given your attack upon him, and my defence of you, it takes little thought to discern how it would appear to others and the consequences that might follow from it. Therefore I cannot agree to it for my own good as well as yours.

Though it may seem from a distance that I have paid no price for my actions of that time that is not so and I would not have you think it is. Do not consider that it is being a prince that allows me home, had I turned my fathers sword away while you were still armed and threatening him then my fate would have been no different to your own. That he had already disarmed you is what separates our fates according to the law and my father has made much use of that in my defence, claiming my actions as deeds of foolishness rather than infamy. But do not think the matter is ended there. Amongst those who saw what passed between us that day most have accepted me back without comment for love of my father only. The truth is that there are many for whom forgiveness for my actions in Dale remains fragile and sits upon a blades edge, one false step on my part may yet banish it like early mist under the sun. As it is I must endure their harsh judgement and the knowledge of the pain that I inflicted upon my father. Yet he has forgiven me and asks no reparation from me, though I know that he cannot have forgotten.'

The sound of the bell for the fifth hour caused her to raise her eyes once more. The light was fading fast now and the crowds were thinning, vendors were packing their stalls and tents for the day and the lamp men were starting to light the sconces that ringed the wool market. A small cluster of dwarfs strode across the square and she pulled her cloak closer about her, soon there would be too few people about for her to risk remaining if they stayed. But she was determined to finish the letter before she returned to the Elvenkings house. As the dwarfs turned away from her and strode towards the far side of the square she resumed reading.

'I suspect that it is a similar knowledge of the grief inflicted that causes you to fear that my father will prevent our meeting. Yet you misjudge him just as I did that day, and his unfailing understanding and compassion since I have returned convinced me that you were wrong in your assumption. So it proved to be, for I have told him of your letter and your request for us to meet and he has agreed that we may do so with as often as we wish provided we do so at his house, openly and with his explicit blessing, for he also understands how others might see things if they are done differently and he would protect us from any malice. For this reason I have assured him that there will be no secret meetings and that any conversation between us will take place at a time and place that he agrees.

As to the timing of our meeting, I confess that I do not understand your urgency, what is there that we must say to each other that cannot wait until I travel to Dale in the summer? Yet there may be matters I do not know of and so if the need for this meeting is indeed pressing inform me as quickly as you may and I will travel to Dale immediately. But time is short for the king asks that I be here at his Halls during Lord Elronds' visit and I wish to honour his request, they are expected here in little over half a moon cycle and to stay with us until the second cycle of summer.

For myself I am content to wait until the planned visit to Dale, my father has assured me that we will be granted as much time to talk as we wish provided I perform my allotted duties. If I do not hear from you I will understand that you are now content to meet during the summer and I will arrange matters accordingly. Know that I wish only the best for you and look to meet with you once again before the summer fades.

Your friend and brother in arms

Legolas Thranduilion'

With a sigh Tauriel folded the letter again and tucked it back into the pocket of her tunic. It would take many readings before she decided what to do. Clearly the relationship between Legolas and his father were less damaged than she had assumed, that came as a surprise for she had not thought the king would forgive his son his betrayal so easily. Anger shook her and she rose quickly and crossed the square, her thoughts a mix of bitterness and despair. That she was punished for doing nothing more than demanding the kings help for the dwarfs whilst Legolas was forgiven for openly defying his father in the same cause was beyond her understanding.

Her steps quickened as her anger mounted, no doubt it was the king who was behind Legolas refusal to meet with her as she wished, as for his caution well there was no reason to think that anyone would find out about their meeting so why was he concerned? No doubt that was Thranduils doing too, once he had known of her letter he had played upon his sons regret and worry to twist her request into something other than it was, to make it seem something devious and base! When Legolas spoke of fear of how others might see such a meeting what he meant was what his father might see in it, for the king was determined to see evil in her deeds whatever they might be.

It seemed that she would have to wait until the summer for them to meet, with Lord Elrond visiting it would take something of greater urgency than she could cite to bring Legolas to Dale.

Her steps slowed for a moment as a thought struck her, why was Elrond visiting? In the two millennia since the coming of the shadow to Greenwood he had never left his mountain fastness that she knew of, or sent more than the occasional messenger to the king. Yet now there was something of such importance that he came in person. What could it be?

She left the rapidly emptying square and walked toward the Elvenkings house. She would reply to Legolas and his accept his offer to meet in the summer and perhaps when he next wrote to her he would know more of the reason for this sudden visit.


	37. Chapter 37

_AN_

 _Thanks to those who warned me of the format error, I dont know what happened there as it looked fine when I reviewed it. Usually I check an upload but on thisd occassion I didnt get time, and it had to be this time it went wrong!_

 _Sorry to those who tried to read it and I hope you dont desert me for the difficulty. Hopefully this update will work properly._

 _P_

 **Travellers**

Elrond and his party traveled east for two more days with no difficulty, the path through the peaks of the Misty Mountains remained clear and the clouds high, only the wind reminding them of the lurking vagaries of the season. They had passed the mid point of the pass and the west was now behind them, before them the road climbed a little higher as it wound through the peaks towards the east. The slope was gradual and undemanding but here the spring winds came from the north and east and they still had some bite, and there were occasional flurries of snow that settled briefly on the thin sheet of ice that slicked the sheltered parts of the path.

Elrond had spent much of their time on the road wrapped in silent thought, his mind wandering in both the mists of the past and in the shadows of the future as he contemplated the best way to approach this task. His companions had caught his somber mood and left him to his thoughts, only his ward making anything more than a superficial attempt to distract him from whatever contemplation caused his frown. Attempts that were met with gentle rebuff but nothing in the way of explanation, eventually Estel abandoned his questions and left his foster father to his thoughts.

Those thoughts were less settled than Elrond would have any know. He wished that he had been able to speak of the matter one more time with Mithrandir but he was loath to delay this journey longer on the possibility of seeing so unpredictable a being. Yet if any could understand the elf lords' sense of unease it would be the wizard with whom he had shared his hopes and fears. Elves were rarely concerned with time yet at this moment he could feel it pressing down upon him, an experience that he had not known in this age. Estel was mortal and within twenty years, thirty at the most, he would need to return to his fathers' people, to take his place amongst the last remaining tribes of the men of the west. Elronds' frown deepened at the thought of all that must be done to prepare him for that return, let alone for that future he hoped might be to come.

He sighed, it was that dimly perceived yet possible future that sent him traveling towards Greenwood, and even now he couldn't have explained why he felt it to be so important, except that there was so much that Isildurs' last descendant would need to learn if he was to avoid making the same mistakes as that long ago king. Some of which he could learn in Imladris, but there was too much that he could not for Imladris had been separated from the world from much of the second age. In that bright future Estel would need to know things that none in the hidden valley, protected as it was by an Elven ring, were equipped to teach him; things that might prove as important as the ability to survive in the wilderness, to track prey or wield a sword. Now was the time to start those lessons whilst the enemy was weak and the shadow of evil had withdrawn, for the respite might be short. But he could not help but be aware that there was much that could go astray.

He looked across at Estel noting that the youth looked dejected, his shoulders hunched and his chin sunk down onto his chest. The dark hair was tousled where it was not covered by his hood, his cloak was pulled tightly around him and the hands upon his horses' rein were tight, when he turned his head to stare at a falling rock it could be seen that his mouth was set in a thin line. Elrond hid a wry smile; sometimes he forgot that his ward was not an elf and that the weather and fatigue had the power to darken his mood. The smile faded as it occurred to him that Estel might find the elves of the Woodland Realm, with its long history of war against the shadow of Dol Guldor, less comfortable to be among than those he was used to. The little time he had spent with Legolas during the princes' visit would not have prepared him for what they might find, for Leglolas was not his father.

Elrond was suddenly struck by a memory of the prince as it sat in the Hall of Fire, the lost and haunted look that had so often settled in his eyes when he was not engaged in conversation. Legolas had been strange and subdued during that visit and if the stories were right it was with good reason and there might be many tensions in the court of King Thranduil. He shot Estel another look, concern shadowing his eyes, how would his young ward cope with that?

xxxx

As they left the highest peaks behind them, and the pass descended slowly towards the eastern foothills, the weather changed; the previously high clouds came lower draping the peaks above them in grey mists and scattering fine fragments of wet ice on their heads and shoulders. The dampness settled on the rock around them making the path glisten in the grey light, the film of water was enough to make them tread the wet stone with care, whilst the mist obscured the peaks that still reared sharp and snow covered above them. Estel wondered if the weather was responding to Elronds' mood as he pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders and envied, not for the first time, the endurance of elves. He also wished he knew more of the reasons for this journey and the discomfort it involved for neither Elrond or Glorfindel had been forthcoming despite his questions. They had been locked in private discussions on many occassions and he could not help but be convinced that those converstaions were related both to himself and to this journey, and yet none bar they seemed to know anything of the matter. Which seemed strange given that so many of his lessoms were shared by Elronds kin. Estel was well aware that a difficult path lay before him, for in time he would return to his people and their lives were hard and dangerous. Elrond had begun to speak of preparing him for that time and Estel could not help but wonder if this journey was some part of that. The thought was not a comfotable one.

As they continued their descent and drew closer to the foothills the sleet and mist became a penetrating rain and the wind strengthened. The occasional glimpses of the plains below showed a land both bleak and inhospitable where the road towards the river could be seen glowing like dull metal below the lowering skies, winding and exposed. Around it the heath land was scattered with rocky outcrops and patches of stunted bushes yet the grassland was decorated in places with patches of spring flowers whose pale colours could be seen even from the mountains. As they paused to rest the horses Elrond found a vantage point and looked down the road and towards the river assessing how quickly they might travel, for he wished to reach his destination with as little delay as possible. He scanned the sky and horizon, relieved that there was nothing to suggest that the weather would worsen, he felt a surge if relief, providing the river crossing was unaffected by melt water there should be no delay.

On the last night of their journey through the high pass they camped in a shallow hollow beside the road, the fire glowing bright and warm in the shelter from the wind. Elrond sat once again lost in thought, staring out towards the deep shadow of the Wilderland whilst the small party laughed and talked around him. Wrapped in silence his mind was already traveling forward to their destination and the difficult conversations he knew would follow on their arrival. The closer they got to their destination the more his doubts grew. Thranduil owed him nothing after all, and it was an uncomfortable truth that the Woodland Realm had received little help from the elves of Imladris, or any others, in the centuries since the shadow arrived at Dol Guldor. The king might understand why that had been the case but that understanding would not necessarily prevent a sense of ill use when he discovered that the first visit by other Eldar for more than a millennia was for the purpose of asking something of him.

Elrond sighed to himself as he thought of that request. It would have been easier to contemplate, to justify to himself, and to Thranduil, if he had something more than an intimation of a possible future to offer as a reason, but he did not. It was to be desired that it came to pass, for then there was hope for the future, but there was no certainty it would survive the turning seasons for other, darker, roads were also there to be walked. But they were not his current concern, should they come to pass then greater grief than the Elvenkings' anger awaited them all.

For the moment it was that brighter road that concerned him, the hope that the darkness could yet be defeated. Elrond sighed again at the thought of what might follow even hope, for the end of one great evil did not mean that all evil perished and the intention of good did not guarantee that good was the eventual outcome. Particularly when the intention was in the gift of one who was not prepared, one who was well fed on stories of valor and destiny and who did not understand that nothing, not even good, could be assumed to be simple or assured. He had the sense that even if hope triumphed evil might still find it way back though ignorance or hubris, as it had done with Isidur at the end of the last age. That sense was the only justification he had to offer to Thranduil for his request. He looked across at Estel with a slight frown, he must hope that the king saw the force of his fears and understood.

But there was a lot of history between the two of them, between his people and Thranduils', so much that he was not as certain as he would wish to be of the outcome, or even of their welcome. The shadows of Dagolad and the Black Gate might yet hang between them, even after three millennia. The people of the Woodland Realm had little to reason to think well of Estels' forefather

His mind drifted back to that fateful day at the end of the last age when Isildur took the ring rather than destroy it and by doing so set them on the path that led to this journey. He recalled his own anger and bitterness, wondering, as he had done frequently in recent years, why he had not acted more forcefully. Isildur took the ring by right of the loss of his father so he said, and yet the elves had lost as much, not least their high king, why then had he not challenged the mans' right to keep that which held so much force for evil? Elrond had long suspected that if Thranduil, who had also seen his own father fall in the battle, had been present at that moment the new Elvenking would have sent the ring into the fire there and then and still on Isildurs' hand if it was not surrendered. No friendship, though Isildur had been his friend, or fear of enmity between elves and men would have blinded Thranduil to what had to be done. He would have smote off his friends hand if that was what it took to end the ring and bring his people peace and safety after their grief and loss.

Now, seeing all that had flowed from the ring in this age, and knowing what might still be ahead, Elrond wished that he had done it.

But he had not and now another battle with the evil loomed, and all the grief and death that meant, because of it. He could not, would not, risk the fate of others again if any action on his part, however uncomfortable, might scatter the shadows.

Elrond turned his eyes to the sky, dark and misty above him, his mind ranging over his conversations with Glorfindel once again. They had looked at it from all sides but the conclusion remained inescapable if they were to prepare Estel before he was returned to his own people. And prepared he must be for Elrond had a strong premonition that should hope prevail then he and most of his kin would no longer dwell in Middle earth when Estel reached that crossroad. This journey was but the first step in a longer one that would take Estel from youth to man and time was short, and the power of the evil was growing. If the ring should emerge from its current obscurity, and Elrond did not doubt that it would in time, then they must be ready. For that reason alone he must risk Thranduils' anger.

He sighed as he stared up at the drifting clouds, but there was far too much that could go wrong. The Sylvan elves that made up most of Thranduils' people had little respect for the ways of the Noldar, or that used to be the case, meanwhile his own people had little understanding of the ways of those elves that had never crossed the mountains. His companions were carefully chosen for that reason, there were none with him whose families might be considered to be a part of the difficult history between the Noldar and the Sindar; but even so most were of the Noldar and Thranduil would be well aware of it. The party all understood what was expected of them but with so little known of life within Thranduils Realm the possibility of misunderstanding remained. He hoped that the Elvenking would have allowed for this in his arrangements and that the contact between the two groups would be carefully managed.

However Estel himself remained one of the sources of possible discord for though he had left boyhood behind him now he was still young, very young for one of his race. He had been taught the history of the Eldar of course but his youth argued against him understanding the deeper currents that lay below the stirring stories of battle and love. He also had the prejudices and intemperate affections of the youth of men and could be quick to shallow, hot and partisan judgments, it would be as well to put his foster son on his guard before they arrived.

He looked across at the huddled figure, sunk into his cloak and with his hands grasped tightly around a bowl of broth. Above them the stars burned white between the drifting clouds and the land slipped in and out of shadow as they cupped the moon in their fingers. Now, while they had time and shelter, seemed an appropriate time for the discussion, so he rose and moved closer settling himself down beside the youth and speaking to him in a low and serious voice.  
"Estel, if this journey is to achieve what I wish for then there are things that you must understand before we come to Thranduils' Realm, and I would start the lesson now while you have time to reflect upon it and ask such questions as occur to you. Once we are within the forest and under escort it will be hard to find an opportunity for further talk upon the matter."  
Estel looked at him in surprise for a moment and then frowned. When he replied his voice expressed both anxiety and regret.  
"Do you fear that I will disgrace you before King Thranduil in some way by my conduct, my lord, if so how? Tell me and I will be on my guard for I would not give you any cause to be ashamed of me.

Elrond put out his hand and gripped his foster sons' arm.  
"I know you would not, nor would I expect you to do so, but you are young and have led a sheltered and ordered life since your arrival in Imladris and you know little of the world either of men or other elves, it would not be your blame if you erred in innocence not knowing what you do."  
Catching the serious tone Estel looked at Elrond with a wary expression.  
"I will do my best to take whatever lesson you would wish me learn to my heart, but what can there be that is so portentous that I have not learned in Imladris? You have been a careful and kind teacher, as have my brothers and your other kin, what can there be that you have neglected until now?"  
Elrond smiled.  
"Not neglected Estel, for some part of that I would have you understand you have already mastered. But until this time there has been no reason for us to speak of the rest.  
"What then must I know that I do not?  
Elrond looked at him with a serious expression.  
"The nature of kings."

xxxx

Thranduil descended gracefully from his throne and ept past the small knot of dwarfs clustered at the base of the steps, each of whom bowed respectfully as he passed. The guards at the doors that led towards his private rooms hurried to open them for him and he acknowledged their actions with a slight inclination of his head, ignoring the low rumble of voices he could hear starting up as he moved away. His equerry would see the visitors to their quarters and arrange for their comfort, there would be no need for him to see them again until the evening meal, and perhaps not even then if he could find a reason to dine privately. Something he would give some thought to

He sighed as he moved down the walkway for he admitted to himself that he had no inclination to spend any more time with them, for he found that the presence of dwarfs reminded him of the battle before the mountain and those he had lost that day. For an elf the seven springs that had passed since that battle were as nothing, and every dwarf within his sight now reminded him of Thorin and his little band, and of the sorrows that had followed in their troublesome wake. He made the decision, he would not see them again this day and they would be gone soon after the sun rose. They had no reason to feel aggrieved if they were left to dine alone, after all there was nothing more to discuss and there was no shared interests or knowledge that might provide a basis for comfortable discourse in a more social context.

This little party was made up of minor merchants from the north west with their families and servants and they held no place in the lands they traveled to, and they knew little or nothing of the people of those lands. The King of Mirkwood granting them an audience was more than they might have expected when they were stopped at the forest gate and at another time he might have left it to other to speak with them. But they had come with a letter of introduction from Gandalf and they had requested passage in the proper manner and so, unlike Thorin and his surly band, he had no real quarrel with their conduct. Nor was there any reason to fear their allegiance to the enemy as there had been then, for the shadow was still at bay. What realm they came from Thranduil did not know, nor did he care provided they offered no insult or harm to his people and moved on quickly.

The meeting had been amicable enough; they had been polite, careful in their choice of words and the nature of their expression, and in his turn he had smiled graciously and granted them what they had asked of him, safe passage down the Elven road and through the northern forest on their way to Erebor. In addition he had granted them an escort through the deepest part of the forest, for there was still danger for the unwary and there children amongst them. This was the first group to arrive since the start of the winter snows but there would be more as summer arrived, each summer the number traveling towards Erebor increased as news of Dains' claiming of the mountain had slowly spread.

Whatever his thoughts about dwarfs in general he had no quarrel with this group and no reason to deny them. They would leave on the morrow and travel north with one of the routine patrols heading for the river; and from there they would take the road towards the lonely mountain and Dains' court. With the ceremony of the Battlestone approaching it served his purposes to give Dain no cause to feel his people were being slighted. He smiled slightly as he strode towards his own rooms; no doubt the reports of the Elvenkings' courtesy to his kin would cause Dain some discomfort, a small and satisfying payment for the insults offered so freely before the mountain.

Thranduil slipped his hand into the pocket of his robe and ran his fingers over the edge of the parchment sitting there. Gandalf had written in Elvish and the dwarfs had no understanding that the letter they had carried for him contained more than a request for their safe passage through the forest. He had not read the extra passages in any detail whilst the dwarfs had stood before him but he had seen enough to know that the wizard wanted something of him, but then he usually did. This time it seemed to be related to Elrond's visit, which at least should not involve him in an unexpected war.

Reaching the quiet and privacy of his own rooms he pulled out the letter and then threw off his formal robe and placed his crown and staff in their appointed place beneath his banner. After a moments thought he unbuckled his sword belt and laid it beside the crown, he would see no one else this day.

Behind him Galion entered on silent feet and watched as the king settled down in his favourite chair laying the letter in his hand upon the table beside him. Without turning Thranduil spoke quietly.  
"I will see no one else today unless the matter is urgent."  
Galion stepped forward and placed a small pile of parchment beside the letter on the table.  
"As you wish Sire, your secretary said these need your attention. Do you wish me to bring food and drink?  
Thranduil nodded with a small sigh.  
"An infusion of elderflower and a little bread will be sufficient. I will dine here later, with Legolas if he so chooses, until then see that none disturb me. Ensure that the visitors needs are attended to whilst they remain within these Halls and that they are provisioned for the rest of their journey. Entertain them as seems best to you but I would not have King Dain given reason to complain of our hospitality to those who seek his protection."

Galion nodded.  
"As you command my Lord; it is as well that they have traveled far for were they less weary I doubt they would find any entertainment we might offer them of interest. Dwarfs are of a rowdy persuasion, or so I have heard, and have no appreciation of the harp or flute. Nor are they fond of wine, preferring ale, I will see if there is any remaining from the autumn, though I think the last party drained the final barrel. With your permission I will arrange for more to be brought up from Dale for I doubt these will be last dwarfs we see before the snows return."  
The king smiled but said nothing, just waved his butler away with a graceful gesture. Galion bowed and left as quietly as he had arrived

Once he was alone Thranduil settled himself comfortably, picked up Gandalfs' letter and began to read.


	38. Chapter 38

**The nature of kings**

 _A/N To those I cant PM, thanks for taking time to review. To all who read, thank you and I hope yiou enjoy it._

 _p_

The clouds piling up in the western sky were veined with pinks and gold by the failing sun when Thranduil made his last amendment to the last parchment and put aside the plans for scouting the mountains to the south. He rose and stretched then crossed the room and stood for a moment before the tapestry of the white stag, his eyes focused on the trees that his wife had stitched so very carefully as she sat waiting for the birth of their child. A faint smile curved his lips and he allowed himself the luxury of a moment to wander in the past. Happy times they had been when he had hoped that Saurons' ambition and hatred might be ended forever and that peace would continue. That he would be able to live in the love of his wife, his child, his people and the forest.

There had been so much hope in the days when his wife had plied her needle to create this peaceful scene, hope that the evil was defeated and they might live untroubled, that he would never again have to lead his people to war. A time when it was possible to hope that the marring of Arda could be repaired and the world would be able to heal.

A hope that had died before Legolas reached his majority. But short though it had been, no more than a few centuries, he still remembered that time with great pleasure; memories that had given him strength in the times when the shadows surrounded him once again.

Eventually he put the memories from him and turned on his heel and crossed to his dressing chamber. He paused for a moment on the threshold as if undecided and then with a small shake of his head at his own indecision he continued into the room. On the far wall there was a linen press, he opened it and pulled out a plain shirt and draped it across the chair against the wall. The next item selected was a pair of light breeches from the chest beside the press, these were laid with the shirt as were a pair of light but sturdy shoes from the rail set against another wall. Swiftly he pulled off his long boots and stripped off his silken tunic and breeches re- dressing in those he had set upon the chair before sitting down and pushing his stockinged feet into the shoes and lacing them tightly around his ankles. Standing again he crossed to one of the smaller wardrobes and took out a jacket set with the leather armour favoured by the forest guards and a wide belt of plaited vines adorned with two large but empty scabbards; the belt he buckled on and the jacket he laid upon the chair.

He stood for a moment debating his intentions then he returned to the sitting room and lit a lamp and carried back into the dressing chamber pulling aside the curtain that hid the entrance to the small ante chamber to the right hand side of the door. There he set the lamp into the appointed place and opened two of the cupboards that lined the small space. Inside the first were several bows and quivers, in the second were rows of arrows of differing lengths and weights, each one bearing the green and gold fletching of the king of the Greenwood. Thranduil reached in and took the smallest of the bows and a quiver full of arrows, then, from a tray beneath the racks of arrows, he selected a pair of long daggers. These he slipped into the scabbards on his belt before he closed the cupboard again. Finally he lifted a small horn from the wall and fastened it to the belt. Leaving the anteroom he slipped on the armoured jacket and picked up the bow and quiver before returning to the outer chamber.

For a while he stood and watched the sun sinking lower his mind wandering across past, present and future, then just before the first star of evening made its hesitant appearance he turned and poured himself a cup of wine and returned to his chair.

Galion entered on silent feet and if he was surprised by the kings' attire he did not show it.  
"Is there any you would have me call Sire?" he asked, though he was well aware of the answer he would receive.  
The king took another sip of wine.  
"No need, they know."

xxx

Estel looked at his foster father in confusion, the firelight setting shadows in his face that for a moment added half a century to his years, showing the face of the man the youth would one day become.  
"The nature of kings?" he queried uncertainly unconsciously following Elrond in keeping his voice low. "I do not understand, what is that to me or to the purpose of this visit? I know that Lord Legolas father bears the title of king, but is that cause for your gravity when I am well acquainted with noble elves? I would hope that you can rely upon my conduct towards any I call host." His mouth curved in a rueful smile, "not that I expect him to have much to say to me. Why would he?"  
Elrond echoed the smile and patted the young mans arm.  
"I have no fear of your manners Estel, nor of your intentions, for I know you too well to think that you would fail me there. But there are things beyond that to be considered, matters that there has never been reason for us to speak of before, nor for you to think upon, but those things may be vital to the successful outcome of this journey."

Estel looked confused and after a moment of thought he shook his head.  
"But how does that rest upon the nature of kings? There are many noble elves in Imladris, they may not bear the title of king but are they so very different? I cannot see why that should be."  
Elrond inclined his head.  
"No, that is as I thought and it is why we must speak of this now."  
He halted for a moment thinking of how best to proceed, debating how best to explain to one who knew so little of the wider world; and one who still knew little of the future hoped for. Finally he decided that the best course was to revisit things talked of when his foster son was younger.

"We have discussed the roles that people play in the past, have we not," he said slowly, "and the fact that we all may play many of them? You know that I am father, husband, teacher, healer and lord and that each of those roles brings different responsibilities and relationships with those around me."Estel inclined his head but the confusion was still clearly written in his face.  
"Yes I recall that we have spoken of this on many occasions."  
The elf lord nodded.  
"Good. You know too that there are times when I may respond to your actions or misdemeanors as your father but that there are others where I must do so as the Lord of Imladris.""Yes."  
"Just as you know that things you might say to me in our private chambers with no fear of censure can not necessarily be said to others with the same expectation."

Estel nodded again.  
"Yes, we have talked of this many times. But why does this cause you concern my lord, what can there be on that matter that I have not learned and must now learn? Is there some part of your past teaching that you think that I have not mastered?"  
Elrond shook his head.  
"No but there are other roles, ones that we have never had any cause to discuss and these may now become important.".

For a moment there was silence between them, Elrond looked past the youth and stared into the fire and the expression in his clear grey eyes seemed to suggest that his mind wandered in the past. Eventually he returned to the present and spoke slowly and in a low voice.

"Thranduil too has many roles, like me he is elf, father, friend and lord, and in these you may consider him little different to myself or to any of the noble elves you know; and when he is those you may respond to him as you would to me or to Glorfindel or Lindir." He gave Estel a serious look. "But where he is concerned there is more to consider, much more, and it is in those other things that that the danger lurks. For he holds another role and that one sets him apart and makes him unlike any, man or elf that you have known before."  
Elrond met his foster sons' watchful eyes with a smile.  
"Thranduil is a king and it is the nature of his kingship I would have you understand. For it is in ignorance of that kingship, and your response to it, that you might err; and the consequences of doing so could be considerable."

Estel frowned.  
"How does being a king differ from being Lord of Imladris? Is he not the leader of his people as you are of the elves of the hidden valley? Though the name by which you are known is different is it not the same?"  
Elrond shook his head, his smile fading."No it is not, and this is what you must understand before we reach the forest."

Estel thought about that for a moment then shook his head and his voice showed his continuing confusion.  
"How is it different? For you are of a kings line are you not?"  
Elrond inclined his head.  
"That is so, but I have never worn a crown nor stood as king to any. But I have lived close to those who did and I understand the weight and power of a crown. I know well the duties the crown places upon those who wear it and how it separates them from those who have never done so."

He paused for a moment gathering his thoughts before continuing.  
"It is that weight and that separation from others that you must understand, for if you do not you will find it hard to understand the King of the Woodland Realm and it may influence Thranduil in deciding whether to grant that I would ask of him."  
The youth smiled softly.  
"If it so important then instruct me and I will do my best to heed the lesson."  
Elrond smiled again.  
"Very well, the lesson is simple enough and it is this, that when the crown is upon Thranduils' head or when he sits upon the throne of the Woodland Realm or speaks to you as its king he is the Woodland Realm, he is Greenwood. When you stand before him when the mantle of kingship is upon him you look upon the embodiment of his people, when you address him you address all his people and when he speaks then it is as his Realm that speaks. Then he is not just an elf, not even a lord, but all of those who call him king."

Estel frowned.  
"Is that not true for you also?"  
"No, for though I may speak for the people of the hidden valley I am not them in the way that Thranduil, as their king, is his people. I may be addressed, insulted even, without it being an address or insult to Imladris, but that is not true of Thranduil when he invokes his kingly role. An insult or slight to him then is an insult to his Realm and all those who live within it and he will respond accordingly. This is what I would have you understand. Words or deeds he would shrug off if made to him in private or when he is being father or friend take on a different meaning when you are in company with him as king. Then he will not turn insults or impertinences aside with a careless word for you will have addressed them to his Realm and its people. It is his duty to defend them and their dignity at such times, and he will do so."

Elrond stared into the fire his mind drifting back to Isildur and his fate. His voice became softer and considering.  
"At such times you cannot expect him to be as Thranduil the elf or father or lord, nor can you expect him to think and act as you might expect the elf or lord to act. At such times his view of the world and his role within it will be different and he will act accordingly. A king must be wise, measured and far sighted for his words and deeds will echo through the lives of all who call him liege. They may bring happiness, peace and prosperity or their price may be fear, grief and pain, even death. This a good king will not forget, and Thranduil is a good king, indeed given all that has happened in this last age and how his realm has prospered, considering its stability and contentment in the face of threat and loss, it must be conceded that he is a great king."

He met Estels' eyes with a somber expression.  
"As such he cannot concern himself only with his own desires, nor just with the things of the moment, but with all who live within his kingship and with the years that stretch away into times horizon; no more can he follow any path without due consideration, however straight and right it might seem at the moment, for the legacy of any act of his might mean harm to his people. That is the weight of a crown and Thranduil has worn it and borne it for a long time."

The young man frowned.  
"But what does that mean for me? I cannot think I will have much reason to speak with Thranduil the king."  
Elrond gave him a look that he could not fathom and then smiled slightly.  
"Perhaps, at least on this visit, but it is important that you understand. When you meet him as king you may find him cool and distant, though I do not doubt he will treat us all graciously and with kindliness. But such manners will be his habit, for when the king meets others in most cases he will be measuring each word, both his and theirs, for its consequences for his Realm and its people, now or in the years ahead. Even where that is not the case he will not forget that the mantle of his peoples' dignity sits upon his shoulders and he will behave accordingly."  
He reached out and gripped Estels' wrist.  
"I would not have you think this calm, this detachment, means that he is without feeling, or that there is no fire in him, for that would be a mistake."

The elf lord released the wrist he grasped and sat looking down towards the fire he sighed softly  
"He is likely to be yet more distant with our party when in public for the sake of the difficulties between us."  
Surprise spread across Estels' face.  
"Difficulties? Why should there be? I know that that the elves of Imladris have not given King Thranduils' people aid against the spiders, is that your meaning my lord? I have heard Glorfindel speak with some regret on the matter. But has he asked and been refused?"  
Elrond sighed again.  
"It is something both Glorfindel and I regret but it was not something that we could change without putting Imladris and all who lived there in great danger, Thranduil knows this and has never sought our help in those terms. No, that resentment is nothing beside the difficulties of the past."

The fire cast a glow across his face but even so the shadow of sorrow was easily seen. "You have read the Lore and know that terrible deeds were committed in the past by the sons of Feanor, and that in these deeds too many of the Noldar were acquiescent even when they did not take any part. You will know too that the Noldar elves did not always behave with respect when they came into the lands of the Teleri on leaving Valinor."  
He looked across at Estel with a slight smile.  
"The Lords and Princes of Doriath who left Lindon and traveled east had little respect for the Noldar and had good reason for their distain. For all that Lord Legolas often describes himself as a wood elf, a sylvan, and may feel himself to be such, he is not. By descent he is of the Sindar, a grey elf, for both his father and mother came east across the mountains. Legolas was born in the Greenwood and so has no personal experience of the events of that age but his father will have done, though he would have been a child at the time. Certainly his own father Oropher knew them well and with great bitterness."

He looked down at his gloved hand and memory clearly weighed heavily on him.  
"So Thranduil has no more reason to trust any of the Noldar than he has to trust the dwarfs." He raised his eyes and smiled faintly. "But he is a truly wise king and he will not raise any ghosts of the past if he is given the choice in the matter, nor will he allow any personal feelings to influence his actions on his peoples' behalf. Provided he is given no reason to recall that which is past."

Estel stared at him sombre faced, feelings of trepidation painting a frown in his eyes.  
"What then would you have me do? What must I do to avoid giving him reason to deny you what you wish for?"  
Elrond leaned forward and gripped his wrist again with gentle fingers.  
"Set a guard upon your tongue when in the kings' presence, and do not speak to him hastily or thoughtlessly. Be aware that he must behave in certain ways when he is king and do not seek to judge him for it when it does not accord with your own preference, or attempt to spark some unguarded words from him. Put aside your natural favour for those you have known all your life or their kin. Do not seem to be partisan in matters of the past should they arise, loyalty he will understand and respect provided it is measured and without heated favour."  
The youth inclined his head.  
"I will do my best to remember your warning, and to give you no cause to regret my presence. Yet I will not hide from you that your words cause me disquiet and the fear that I my fall short of what is needed however much I try. My hope is that the king will take little account of me and make some allowance for my lack of knowledge. I hope that our discourse can be limited to those times you are present, and I may take your manner as my pattern."

Elrond smiled kindly.  
"Well, do not be overly concerned for there is time for you to reflect on what we have spoken of, it will be several days still before we meet with Thranduils' guard and in that time we may discuss this nature of kings as often as you feel there is a need. Nor should you fear that any ill considered word you utter will be taken amiss, Thranduil is used to dealing with men, more so than most elves still in the world, and he will understand their youthful failings." He laughed suddenly, his eyes sparkling with mirth in the fire glow. "He is patient more than most too, for he managed to live in some harmony with dwarfs before Thrains' acquisitiveness brought the dragon upon them, or so Gandalf told me, a sure sign of his good temper and forbearance. I expect that he will overlook some transgressions provided they are not too heinous or frequently repeated."

With that Elrond rose and turned away into the shadows to tend to his mount leaving Estel to stare into the fire and wonder what his part in this visit was to be, and what it was that his foster father sought of King Thranduil and how he might help achieve it.

xxx

They slipped out of the palace by the stable entrance, their departure unremarked. Had it been his own choice Thranduil would have gone alone but it was not his choice he was the king and therefore there were some thing he could not do however much he might long to. One of which was to go out into his forest unattended, particularly once night had fallen. No Orc had ever entered the area of the forest he ruled, and he was more than capable of defending himself, but he was the king and putting himself in the path of possible danger and unnecessary battles was something he could not do. He hoped that there would come a time when he would be able to wander alone as he had in the first days of his reign but that time had not yet come. So he was not alone, but the five who accompanied him were amongst his closest friends, elves he had known since he had crossed the mountains with his father, elves that had stood at his back in times of the greatest peril. Elves who knew how to give him the illusion of being alone when he needed it while still being there to provide a ring of steel and arrow should danger threaten.

The stars were brightening above them as they slipped through the woods beyond the river; the trees sang their welcome as the little party passed by, the king feeling his spirit warm at their joy at his being amongst them. As he passed between them he sang a song of his pleasure and gratitude, touching bark and burgeoning leaf with gentle fingers, the slow beat of the trees hearts rippling through him as they responded. In the shadows the rustle of nocturnal life paused as the small party of elves passed and the deer that grazed in the moonlit glades raised their heads and watched until it was clear no danger threatened then they inclined their heads in acknowledgment and returned to their grazing.

The kings' tree was a mighty oak, its spreading branches sheltering a large glade where the bluebells massed in dense waves nodding their heads in the night breeze sending waves of scent to wind around the trees. Thranduils' guard took up positions in the branches of the smaller oaks that clustered around the glade while the king quickly climbed up towards the tree tops until he reached his preferred vantage point. Here two great branches spread out providing a comfortable nook into which he slipped, feeling the smaller shoots mesh themselves to make a platform beneath him, the bark of the great trunk moulding itself to his body a gentle hug that would hold him securely even if he fell asleep or lost himself in the night.

Above him the starlight was cold and clear and Thranduil raised his eyes to his star then he drew a deep breath and sank back into the trees embrace, allowing the light of the stars to take his vision and opening his mind and fea to the spirit of the forest. The life force of the great oak at his back filled him and he followed the light of the stars and the heartbeat of the great oak out into the forest.

xxx

The moon was high above the trees and the stars at their brightest when Thranduil drew a deep breath and began to pull away from the forests spirit, returning slowly and with some reluctance to himself alone and this little moment in time. Yet even as he grieved surrendering the might and wonder of the forests knowing again his heart was glad and his mind eased for the joy of spring moving towards summer was untainted by fear. More than that the trees of the south were returning to the forest mind and the songs they sang were soft and content. He did not know how long this would be so but for the moment the forest was returning to its days of ease and glory, its fingers reaching out into the wider soul of the world which no longer shrank back from its overtures.

The echoes of the pleasure of the doe watching her young gambol, the exhilaration of the fledged night birds in their first hunt and the quiet pleasure of the young leaves in the caress of starlight still hovered in his mind as his sight and hearing resumed its elvish pattern, he never lost them entirely but there was always the feeling of sorrow at their retreat at such times, but leavened by a great gratitude for the gift the forest gave to him.

"My Lord."  
A voice same from below him and he looked down to see the upturned face of the captain of his personal guard. He inclined his head for speech was slow to return at such moments as his companions well understood. The elf below him smiled and bowed his head slightly as he continued.  
"It draws close to the time we must leave if we are to be back within the Halls at the time you set to dine, and I believe it is my Lord Legolas intention to dine with you. I can send back a message if you wish to tarry longer."  
Thranduil shook his head and began to descend the tree his fingers caressing the bark in gentle tanks for the trees care as he did so.

By the time he had reached the forest floor his guard was assembled, and they gathered protectively around him, knowing that at such times he might be slower to respond in his own defence should they be attacked. For a moment he stood staring up at the sky as time and place resettled themselves fully upon him, then he smiled at the elves around him.  
"There is no sign of the darkness returned not even in the south." He said softly, "the forest is happy and at ease and it seems that we will have another summer of peace my friends. The summer feasts will be truly joyful and our people will live well and with ease."  
He saw the relief and joy fill their eyes and he smiled warmly at them.  
"So let us return, for my son awaits me and I'm sure your families will be glad to hear these tidings too and will wish to celebrate them suitably with a dish of good wine."

His companions returned his smile, images of summer feasts beneath the stars, unworried by spiders or dwarfs, drifting through their minds they turned back towards the Elvenkings Halls.


	39. Chapter 39

_A/N_

 _My apologies that this might be a bit scrappy, I have had an accident (never argue with a flight if steps and a plate glass window because you will lose). I'm still finding screen based reading a little difficult and so it might not flow, or be as tidy, in fact as it seems to me._

 _In the same way apologies to those who reviewed the last chapter that I haven't replied, it's for the same reason and I will do so when I've recovered fully._

 **Of enemies and friends, and those in between**

Legolas arrived at his fathers' rooms before the king himself had returned and was greeted by Galion with a tray on which rested a cup of wine and a plate of sliced spiced apple. He inclined his head in greeting as he held out the wine.  
"Your father has not yet returned my Lord, but I doubt he will be long delayed for he left at sunset and intended to be back in time to dine with you."

Legolas took a slice of fruit and the wine cup with a frown.  
"Left you say, that suggests that he has departed the palace and gone into the forest. If that is indeed the case I hope that he has not gone unaccompanied. The shadow may have retreated but it is not safe enough that the king should go about alone and unguarded, great warrior though he is."  
Galion inclined his head again and a faint look of reproof drifted across his face.  
"He knows this and he did not go alone, much though I think he would have wished to. His closest guard went with him as they always do at such times."  
For a moment Legolas looked confused then enlightenment dawned and he nodded reaching for another slice of apple. He gave Galion an apologetic look.  
"Of course, the end of spring approaches. I…."

He got no further for the door opened and his father entered the room, a warm smile curving his lips as he saw his son  
"Legolas, I trust I have not kept you waiting long?"  
His son smiled in return, noting the bow slung across his fathers shoulder and the wide eyed, slightly far away, look in the king's eyes that betrayed his recent communion with the spirit of the forest.  
"No time at all," he responded cheerfully, "and waiting is no hardship for the wine is good and I know you have been about important matters. A small delay in dining is nothing when in the service of the council of the trees. How went it? Is there any news of the south? Do you think it will be safe to send a patrol over the mountains once the last spring festival is over?"

The king handed his bow and quiver to Galion with a smile then he unbuckled his belt and laid it and the daggers on a chair. Galion picked them up and disappeared into the kings dressing suite as Thranduil began to shrug himself out of his jacket, replying as he did so."I have been considering that since we completed the inspection tour. Both the Council of the Realm and the leaders of the communities are in agreement with such a course provided there is no indication that Dol Guldar has been occupied again."  
An anxious look drifted across Legolas's face and a note of hesitation entered his voice.  
"Is there?"  
Thranduil shook his head as he draped his jacket over a chair back.  
"Not that can be determined. My informants in the south say all remains quiet, that the fortress is silent and seems deserted. The birds report no sign of the shadow either and tonight the trees spoke not of orc or spider or wild wolf but only of spring and renewal."  
He stared towards the fire and frowned.  
"But there must be no mistake, no overconfidence. The creatures of the dark are devious; they have hidden themselves before and will do so again if allowed the chance. I will send a message to the Golden Wood to see if they have noticed any signs of the darkness returning before taking any action, for they are far closer to it and more likely to see the early signs of a return. But if they report hopefully then I think such a foray might be ventured. Though it must not be as far as the fortress just yet I think."

Legolas frowned."Will Lord Celeborn not send scouts out, at least to the edge of the forest for that would give clearest view of all?"

Thranduil shook his head.

"No, Lothlorien has closed itself to the world and will remain so if I am any judge; my informants tell me that they rarely venture as far as to their borders these days. I confess I was greatly surprised when Mithrandir revealed the Lady had traveled to the fortress, her fear of what was there must have been great indeed to draw her from her land."  
He gave s son a weary smile.  
"They will watch, but from a distance. Do not think I blame them for that, I do not, Celeborn's first duty is to keep his people safe, as is mine. We both know the dangers that evil place holds and will be circumspect in any matters regarding it."

Galion appeared again with a robe which he handed to the king without a word before returning to the table and the wine jug to pour him a cup. Legolas set down his own wine and went to help Thranduil don his robe knowing how much the communion with forest wearied his fathers' body even as the wonder of it fed and provided succour to his spirit. With a faint smile the king accepted the help, pulling the robe tightly about his body as if he felt a chill.

He sighed, a look of concern flitting across his face as he continued.  
"Nor will I hasten into any action on this matter. I would not send any of our people so far from home and family just yet. I would have us make as much of this time of peace and renewal as possible, for as you know I do not think it can endure. Let there be a year or two of rest and joy as the forest renews itself."

Legolas was silent for a moment, remembering his days and nights spent staring down upon that place of evil, recalling the sense of foreboding he had felt at the sight of the dark walls and how the brooding air that hung around it had seemed to freeze his heart even at such a distance. Suddenly he wanted more than anything to wipe the fortress from the forest so that he might put those memories aside forever. Yet he was aware that he was also glad it would not fall to him to order any of their people to approach it, an insight that brought a sudden sense of shame and the memory of Tauriel's foolish words. He pushed the recollection and the sudden chill it brought to him, away and looked back towards his father with serious eyes.  
"But you will send scouts to the fortress when there is more certainty of its fate?" He said slowly.  
The king nodded slowly and accepted the wine Galion held out to him before the butler took the flagon and left the room.  
"Yes and within ten seasons if there is certainty enough, for there are preparations I would make in the south against the time when the shadow returns." He looked at his son with a determined expression, "but I will not go unsure or unprepared and so risk losing any of our people to the pits of that terrible place."  
A small tremor ran through the king as he spoke and his eyes took on a haunted expression, for he knew very well the fate of those who were imprisoned in those dark places. The thought of any of his people being claimed by them filled him with horror.

Legolas looked at his father with understanding.  
"Nor would any expect you to, certainly not I." he said softly. He looked down into his wine. "Gandalf told me of the fate of Thorin Oakenshield's father and the thought of any of our kin being treated in such a way fills me with the same horror as I see in your face. Lady Celebrian had to sail to escape her memories and yet I fear that a prisoner of Dol Guldor would suffer pains even greater than hers, for the malice of Sauron or the nine exceeds even that of orcs, and how would they be saved?"  
Thranduil sighed, the shadow of his fears still clouding his face.  
"How indeed, the pits lie far beneath the fortress and its walls are protected by the most powerful of dark spells. Each year of Sauron's dwelling there he strengthened them, little at first but more as his power returned."  
Legolas looked his father curiously, wondering how he knew this.  
"Was this well known? If it was then why was he left to grow strong?" He asked.

The king took a swallow of wine and sank into his chair as if weary; some hint of the wonder of the forest still lingered in the depths of his eyes yet now it was overlaid by regret and his voice was washed of expression.  
"I failed to persuade them to act when it could have counted. I knew of it, was sure of it, for the trees and the birds spoke of it in such terms that there could be no mistaking. Indeed as he grew stronger I could feel the malice, the cold, of those spells if I turned my mind to the south, even on the brightest of summer day. Though they never spoke of it those watching in the Golden Wood must have seen something of the same and I cannot fathom how the Lady could not have felt it."  
"Yet they did not act." Legolas said with a shake of his head.

"No. I informed Elrond and Celeborn of all I heard and saw but as you know it did not convince the White Council. The War of the Last Alliance was long and bitter and they wanted to believe that it had succeeded, that the evil was past, so very much."  
He gave a faint smile.  
"They longed for peace Legolas, and for that hope they risked terrible war, and terrible it will be if Sauron rises again. A gamble they took, and one that we can now be sure that they, we all, lost."

He sighed and leaned back against his chair, taking a sip of wine and his eyes growing distant with memory.  
"I think that Mithrandir was of a mind to act but Saruman was not convinced of the need, setting little store by my words and judging the occupier of the fortress to be some lesser wizard. The rest of the council dismissed my concerns and followed his lead."  
Legolas looked at him in astonishment.  
"I never knew this. A lesser wizard? How could they believe such a thing, no wizard who could affect Greenwood in such a way could be considered as such! It says little for their wisdom that they judged so."  
Thranduil inclined his head in agreement but made no other comment.  
Legolas saw the weary look in his fathers' eyes deepen and decided to speak no more on a topic that still caused both pain and anger for Greenwoods king, instead he shrugged.  
"Perhaps Lord Elrond will enlighten us as to why they paid so little attention to your words when he is here now that the truth is known. I can understand that he might not wish to commit it to a messenger, and I did not understand enough of what had gone before to pursue the matter when we met.  
He smiled and shook his head.  
"Not that it will change anything that is past but it might be of some use for the future. But you are right in what you say, the presence is banished for now and we have time to take some ease."

At that point Galion entered again and began to set the table. Thranduil cast a warning glance at Legolas and turned the conversation towards his communion with the forest.

xxx

They had eaten their fill and were settled companionably looking out at the forest peaceful beneath the stars when the conversation turned to Elrond's arrival and, as a consequence, to the strange matter of Gandalf's letter.

"Did Mithrandir give any clue as to his current doings?" Legolas asked as he refilled his glass from the flagon beside him.  
His father shook his head with a slight smile.  
"No, but I would not expect that he would. Two letters sent within the course of a season is something I doubt he has done before and expect that he knew well what he wanted to convey, as little as possible. Indeed I can't imagine where he found the pen and ink! It seems unlikely that the dwarfs had such things about them and no wayside inn would be able to provide them. But then he is wizard and no doubt has ways we know little of."  
Legolas hesitated for a moment his eyes fixed on the treetops, then he drew a deep breath and asked the question that had been haunting him since he first of learned of Gandalf's second missive.  
"He said nothing more of Dale or Tauriel? He has not changed his mind on that matter?"  
Thranduil shook his head slightly but did not look towards his son. His voice however was mellow with no hint of concern as he responded.  
"No, there was no mention of it. I think we can consider his views on her actions fixed and so the doubts set aside. Whatever brought her to abandon her people and her duty and to threats of murder and treason it was not the command of Sauron or his servants. At least, not with her knowing and connivance."

Legolas stared up towards the stars, it was a clear night and their brightness overshadowed the power of the slim sliver of moon that hung amongst them. He fixed his eyes on that slim blade edge of the new moon as he spoke.  
"I confess myself to be relieved; I did wonder if his time of reflection had altered his assessment of the matter." He was pleased that his voice sounded no less easy and composed than his fathers.  
Thranduil sighed softly and laid a hand on the arm beside him, though he too kept his eyes on the sky.  
"Then I am sorry for it and the grief it must have brought you."  
Legolas shook his head and smiled at the moon his own hand coming up to grasp the fingers on his arm.  
"It is nothing that should cause you sorrow, for the doubt was mine alone. I still do not understand her mind and whilst that continues to be the case the possibility for doubt remains."

He drew a deep breath but continued without any sign of distress.  
"My own thoughts and feelings have become clearer to me, or so I believe, and with that clarity I better understand my own actions, but hers now baffle me. More so now than then, for now I know a greater part of her deeds than then. How a warrior of our people, trained and trusted, came to behave in so irrational a manner, and at time when she knew our dangers to be increasing, still eludes me. That I did not see that at the time causes me shame for even then I should have looked beyond her words to her deeds."  
He paused for a moment as if remembering, and then he continued with a question in his voice.  
"For she cannot have truly loved the dwarf when she knew so little of him could she? An elf would not pledge to another elf in such a way as that, even if they had known them their whole lives. How then could she do it with one from a people of whom she knew little and even less that was good? "  
"No, I would agree that it is strange." Thranduil said softly.

There was a period of comfortable silence between them as they stared out into the night each lost in their thoughts, watching the starlight silver the edges of the newly grown leaves, cutting the outline of the trees with shadows that shifted and fluttered in the strengthening night wind. Finally Legolas spoke again as he reached to refill his cup.  
"So what then did he write if it was not of Tauriel or Dain or Dale? What was so pressing to move him to find paper and ink so soon after his last effort? What business is he about?"

Thranduil shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the trees.  
"He wrote nothing of his doings, though I can surmise what they are likely to be given where he met the dwarfs. The letter spoke only of Elrond's visit."  
"Oh! Have you learned more of Lord Elrond's reasons for coming from it?"  
"No, I know no more than when we last spoke of his visit."  
Legolas frowned slightly as he picked up his wine cup."Why then did he write of it at all, what is that to him? Indeed how does he know of it?"  
Thranduil smiled slightly and shrugged again.  
"He was as cryptic as only one of his ilk can be. Yet this is not unknown where he is concerned for he often speaks in roundabout ways though it is never clear why, for when the mood takes him he can be as direct as a well aimed arrow. This occasion is not such a time however and his words wind like ivy around an ancient elm. It is possible that he feared that one of the dwarfs might be overcome by curiosity and open it, and understand more of it than expected. He might even have feared that his letter could fall into other hands."

Legolas looked at his father in surprise.  
"Why should that be the case? If he did not trust the dwarfs then why send his missive with them?"  
Thranduil shook his head.  
"I do not think it was matter of trust. There was an opportunity and he grasped it but he knew that once they went their separate ways there would be nothing he could do to influence its progress."  
"Grasped or contrived?" Legolas asked with a smile.  
Thranduil laughed.  
"Possibly both for I doubt that chance was involved. I do not think he has the gift of foresight but he has many informants and helpers, and if he wished to send such a letter he would have little difficulty in finding a party on the road heading east to serve his purpose "  
He tiled his head a little as he considered the matter further  
"It is not clear to me how or where he came upon the dwarfs, nor how long he journeyed with them, and they know so little of the land they have traveled that they cannot explain. All they can tell me is that they met him in an inn on the road at the entrance to the pass through the Blue Mountains, by chance they think, though as I have said I take leave to doubt that. He seems to have stayed in their company for a day or two, no more, and then he left them to take the road west."

Legolas frowned again.  
"But why write at all? Mithrandir rarely find the need to resort to the written word, indeed I do not think I have ever heard of him sending a letter except for that one from Dale and those reasons were exceptional. Yet it does not seem to be the case here."  
His father smiled.  
"That is true, yet perhaps he felt the matter to be exceptional." Thranduil stared up towards the sky. "I think that the events he set in train by sending Thorin Oakenshield to Erebor have finally taught him some caution, though I doubt that lesson will stick with him. Or perhaps it was rather that it reminded him that he can not be sure of the actions of those who know only a part of the story. A lesson I hope he does not forget too quickly."  
He looked towards his son with a wry expression.  
"Elrond's visit seems to be the only reason for his literary effort. Stripping away the evasion and obscure phrases I take his message to be a request for me to listen kindly to whatever it is that Elrond wants and to look upon his request with favour."

Legolas turned to look at his father in surprise.  
"So, Lord Elrond wants something of us, something that is of interest to Mithrandir. Considering recent events that sounds a little …..ominous."  
Thranduil's smile took on a slightly cynical edge.  
"I did not doubt that Elrond wants something." He said dryly. "Why else would he leave his mountain fastness and travel here n? It is nearly two millennia since last he traveled east, what could inspire such a visit now but his desire for my support in something?"  
His tone became thoughtful.  
"Something that he doesn't feel safe to commit to a letter; or perhaps something he feels unable to ask of me except in person."  
He turned his head and gave his son a glittering smile.  
"Which is interesting is it not?"

Thranduil reached out and took a nut from the dish beside him, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back towards the night and a musing edge entering his voice.  
"I had thought it related to the mortal who lives within the sanctuary of his house for he brings the boy with him, but not his mother. Yet I cannot see why anything he might ask for on that count is likely to require the wizard's championship."  
Legolas leaned forward and refilled his wine cup again.  
"I agree. What could his fosterling need of us? I had some small conversation with him during my time in Elrond's house but there was nothing remarkable about him that I recall, and nothing that would indicate a need for our assistance."  
His father shrugged.  
"That is unclear, but then I know little of the mortal other than he is the last of Isidurs' line, at least as far as is known; and so related to Elrond at some distance. He came to Imladris with his mother from their lands in the north when his father was killed, that would be some fifteen springs or so ago and they have both remained there since. I assume that in time he will return to his own people for he must be their chieftain by virtue of his birth. How we might assist in that I cannot see.  
"He frowned slightly.  
"Whatever it is that Elrond wishes of us it seems that Mithrandir also considers it of some import. As I have said I confess myself intrigued as to what it might be."  
He turned to look at his son again the frown dissolving into another bright smile.  
"It will also be amusing to see how Elrond approaches making the request."

Legolas smiled slightly at the bland tome of his father voice, knowing well how he must feel about this visit, and how some of their people would view it.  
"I cannot imagine that Lord Elrond is comfortable in asking anything of you when he has been of so little assistance during the dark days."  
He frowned again as a new thought occurred to him.  
"But how would Mithrandir know about this visit?"  
Thranduil took a sip of wine and smiled slightly, staring up at the stars glittering like white gems between the mounting clouds.  
"I have given that some considerable thought and the only possible explanation I can see is that Elrond has been debating this visit for some time and that during that period Mithrandir visited Imladris and they spoke on the matter."  
"But why did he not mention it when he was with us."Thranduil shrugged slightly  
"That question I cannot answer, perhaps a desire not to be the first to mention it given the events of the past. Perhaps he had some feeling that if he did so it might anger me given the events of seven springs ago, or cause me to deny the request when it came. There is some suggestion of that in his letter."  
He looked back towards Legolas again.  
"Though it is possible the desire to speak of it did not come upon him until after he had left us. If he was north of the Blue Mountains when he met the dwarfs, as I think he was, he will have spent lonely weeks of traveling since leaving Dain's court and perhaps the hours of solitude gave him cause to reflect upon the matter. It might even have been something the dwarf king said that decided him to add his entreaties to whatever persuasions Elrond will deploy. Though I cannot see why that might be."

Silence fell between them for a while, both lost in their own wondering. Eventually Legolas resumed the conversation.  
"If they are to be here before the end of spring they must already be on the road, and have been so for some time, let us hope the weather continues kind. When do you expect them to arrive?"  
"My informants tell me he has left the foothills of the mountains and is making good time towards the river. If they judge it aright Elrond and his party should be at the forest gate by the half moon, so unless there is some unforeseen delay they will be here in time for the feast." Thranduil said.

There was a pause before Legolas spoke quietly, his eyes fixed on his wine.  
"You will include his party in the festivities?"  
"Yes of course, how could I not without giving the most grievous offence. Though I know there are those amongst us who will not be easy with their presence. It would be churlish to deny them the experience of our people's joy and pleasure at the approaching summer."  
Legolas continued to stare into his wine cup.  
"You do not anticipate any difficulties? Many of those in Imladris view our people with distain I have heard and read, though they were careful with their words and looks in my company. If that is truly the case then should our people be required to tolerate such looks and slights at their feast? I do not doubt that the Lord himself will be all politeness and dignified good humour, for his kindness is honest and boundless. But can we expect the same from all of those who travel with him?"

Thranduil's smile was without humour and his eyes were alight with mockery.  
"I know the arrogance of the Noldar well; I have seen their self satisfaction and their pride, false though I judge it to be. But Elrond carries the blood of the Telari in his veins, though he seems content to forget the line he sprang from and take on the mantle of those who slaughtered them and would have killed him too but for the guilt of one."  
The smile faded.  
"Yet who can say how he feels it in his heart, he will never say, and he was little more than an infant at the time of his taking. For the rest he is indeed of a kindly and open disposition and will have taken care to choose his companions from those whose conduct he can rely upon."  
Legolas nodded.  
"Indeed, he has known his share of grief and trouble, I cannot imagine how he and his brother felt when they learned the truth of their past."  
His father shook his head slowly.  
"Nor I, but I have wondered if it played a part in Elros making his choice as he did."  
He looked towards Legolas with a sad smile, "that it was easier to ally with men than to decide what form of elf he was."

The look of sadness faded as he pushed thought of old sins aside.  
"But as I have said I trust him to choose his party carefully and bring only those he trusts not to strain the duties of hospitality. Even so I will keep them close to the Halls and in the company of those who I can be sure will turn aside any barbs or insults they may voice. At least until I have had the opportunity to assess their conduct for myself. But I will not allow our people, Sylvan or Sindar, to be deprived of their joy in the feast. Nor will I permit any word or action that makes our kin the butt of Noldar scorn, if that means they pass the visit confined to their quarters, or even in a prison, then so shall it be. Though I doubt there will be the need, for Elrond would be mortified by such conduct even if he did not seek our help."

Behind them the sounds of Galion entering to settle the fire reminded them of the waning night and Legolas drained his wine and rose to take his leave. His father would need rest before the Council meeting where he would tell of the report of the forest, and no doubt he would seek to recapture that communion in dreams before he did so. As he strode down the quiet corridor to his own apartments he found thoughts of Tauriel returning to him and he wondered if his own dreams would be so joyful.

xxx


	40. Chapter 40

**Coming to Greenwood**

The long and arduous road was behind them and the smaller outliers of the Greenwood were but a few strides away. The day had barely begun and around them the shadows were still deep and with a tinge of night at their hearts, while above them the faint mist of a moon remained etched in the pale dawn sky. At their backs the flat plains stretched towards the mountains their outlines hazy in the early morning light and capped with cloud, but their minds were focused upon the rustling trees and what lay within the great forest. Before them a high arch of beeches guarded the entrance to the elven road, the only safe passage through to the east, their twined branches seeming to conspire at secrecy. The road turned suddenly once beyond the gate and they could see nothing more than what seemed to be a wall of trees shrouded in the morning mist.

They had reached the the gate to the forest road at sunset the previous day and had camped on the open land beside it, close against the forests edge, being careful to make sure their fire did not cause any damage for much of the night had been windy. Elrond had left them in little doubt of Thranduil's reaction if any carelessness of their set fire to a single bush. Estel had watched the elves of the party setting about making camp and settling the horses and seen by their looks that they found this forest as unsettling as he did.

Even now as the days light strengthened the path beneath the trees remained hidden Estel stood and stared at the shifting shadows within the trees and wondered; here at the gates to Thranduil's realm he recalled all he had heard of that king, a warrior of a previous age, an elf who had worn a crown for all of this age, and found himself taken with a sudden urge to flee.

Elrond had little difficulty in sensing the direction of the young mortal's thoughts and went to stand behind him putting a kindly hand upon his shoulder  
"Is it the forest that is so overwhelming Estel or is it the one that waits within it that renders you so drawn and silent?  
Estel did not turn as he replied, his eyes remaining fixed on the sentinel beech trees  
"I do not know, both perhaps, though in different ways. For all our talk upon the road I believe that it is only now that I realize that I am to meet elves who are not your kin, or who do not call you Lord, for the first time.  
Elrond smiled slightly  
"Certainly you will meet those who do not call me lord and not only Thranduil; it may surprise you but few here hold the Noldor, or any of the high elves, in much esteem."  
Estel, remembering other conversations they had shared on this journey, nodded his head but his strained look did not ease and Elrond tightened his grip for a moment  
"But do not be afraid; remember all I have told you and deal with them fairly and with respect" he said softly, "and they will do the same to you in return. They are a good people Estel,, a kindly people despite all their trials and tribulation; they will not seek offense where none is intended."

"But he has dungeons!" The words escaped before he could stop them  
Elrond laughed  
"Indeed he does, well dungeons of a sort. He is the king and that means he is giver of the law here. Not only for his own people either, but for all who live within the forest or travel through it, Men and dwarf as well as elves. Nor should you forget that for much of his reign they have been under attack, and with no protection but his foresight and their strength. Greenwood is not Imaldris, it is not hidden by mountains or protected by deep ravines and his borders needs remain open to some degree if they are trade, as they must. There will be times when he will need to be sure that someone is securely held, maybe for their own sake.  
The youth turned wide and anxious eyes towards his mentor  
"Does he have scaffolds too  
Elrond's smile died  
"That I cannot say, though I doubt it, but that is not what you truly ask is it? He is a king and is bound by the law, and in his reign there will almost certainly have been times when the penalty of that law has been hard. Though Thranduil enacts the law of elves not of men and it is less harsh and merciless and one that carries far fewer penalties of death.  
He thought of the stories he had heard more recently of she who had committed one of the few crimes that could demand the death of an elf, and he smiled again  
"But he is a great king and like all such leaders he is not cruel or unforgiving and where such acts occur it is known that he seeks to render mercy if he can. Believe me when I tell you that any coming before Thranduil's law will find more justice and mercy than they would in the courts of men or dwarf. But there will have been a few times during his centuries as king when he could do little more than make the death a kind one."

Estel's mouth twisted in doubt  
"But you do not have dungeons or scaffolds.  
Elrond's expression became distant and slightly sad  
"Our situations are not comparable, and that is something you must not forget. As I have told you many times Imladris is secluded, and well hidden, and very few find us unless they have been trusted with the way, and so they are guests and behave accordingly. A true stranger come among us is rare and our numbers are too small for grievances between our own to go unnoticed. The petty squabbles I deal with barely warrant the use of the law. This is not the case here for the people of Greenwood are far more numerous. But I have served kings who had to make the same choices as Thranduil no doubt must and for the same reasons. None have found it easy and I doubt that he is any different in that  
He sighed and turned the youth around and gave him a small push in the direction of the fire  
"But come put such worries away for the moment and rest, there is water warming for tea and bread to break our fast. When our guides arrive we will need to move swiftly for I do not doubt that they will wish to make a prompt start on the journey and continue for as long as there is light enough for the horses to step safely. Take this last respite before we begin the trek to the kings Halls"

Estel followed Elrond towards the fire casting one last nervous look over his shoulder towards the trees as he did so.

xxx

They had been camped at the entrance to the forest gate not half a morning when their escort arrived. A group of six on horse back, and with two more on foot, appearing from out of the trees without warning and halting beside the gate.

Elrond rose from beside the fire, signaling that it should be put out, and moved towards them, noting their armour, the cloaks pushed back from sword hilt and bow, with unease. He felt the aura of readiness about them, something that was so rarely seen, or needed, in Imladris. He watched without expression as one turned and called a word or two he did not understand behind him, more of them emerged from the tree line in response, or so it seemed, a group of ten. Elrond watched them noting the slight hint of danger they seemed to bring with them, realising in a moment that they were more different to the elves he had left at home than he had expected. Perhaps the stories of the Woodland Realm held greater truth than he had believed. Yet for all that they were not strange to him for they brought back memories of the elf lords of the last age, of those he stood with before the gates of Mordor.

Warriors.

Most of the Noldor lords of that time were in Mandos Halls or had left for the ships, and few like these elves remained within his home. He smiled inwardly, Glorfindel would recognise them in an instant of course, and in just few more instants would be exchanging tales of battles fought and tactics used against the dark one with them. But Glorfindel was not here and seeing this escort raised new concerns about their welcome and how his little party would fare in the dangers of Greenwood.

He scanned the group before him looking for a face he might know from the past. He found it as the group approaching from the trees halted and parted to allow one in slightly more elaborate dress to come forward. This face he recognized for it was one of the elves he recalled from Mordor, one of those who had carried Oropher from where he fell back to what had become, at his falling, Thranduil's camp. He felt a sudden sense of shame and regret that he could not recall the elf's name, but reminded himself with an inward sigh that there had been so many retrieval parties and so many dead that day. But he did recall that this dark haired elf had been a Sindar lord, one who had crossed the mountains with Oropher, and remembered too that he had been one of Thranduil's guard at his crowning. It seemed that the king was taking care to make sure that they were welcomed with due grace and ceremony, and by one who he no doubt trusted to observe polite protocol.

The elf lord dismounted and approached them scanning the group with care, after a moment he bowed in the formal manner towards Elrond  
"Welcome Lord of Imladris, I am glad you have arrived here safely. I trust your journey has been uneventful.  
Elrond returned the salute with a smile  
"It has, for which I know we owe much to your kin. I have heard of the battle before the mountain and the rout of the Orc armies. Had it not been for that I believe we would have had less peace and more need for sword and bow on our journey.  
He felt those behind him shift uneasily as if in disapproval at his words but he paid them no mind as the elf before him bowed agai  
"I am glad you were spared that. My King bids you welcome to our Realm and asks that you follow us through the forest, he would have come to greet you himself but other matters intervened for which he sends his regrets.  
Elrond inclined his head in acceptance of the apolo  
"His kingdom is a large one and it must make many demands upon him," he said, "be assured that there is no need for regret, I understand where his first duty must be and would not have him pulled from more weighty matters for a greeting that is merely postponed"  
The elf lord before him smiled/  
"No doubt it is a dilemma to which you are no stranger.  
"Indeed I am not." Elrond responded with his own smile.

The elf lord cast his eyes over the little party and their camp briefly before returning his gaze to Elrond  
"Are your horses rested my Lord? It is close on four days ride to the palace and though we have camp sites already prepared the journey is not an easy one and hard in some places. I would wish to progress to the first of the established camps this day if it can be managed." He lowered his voice a little/  
"I believe too that you have a son of men amongst you who will need more rest, we have allowed for this as far as we are able.  
Elrond suppressed a laugh at his careful words; trust Thranduil to miss no detail! He inclined his head  
"All are rested and ready to ride."

The elf lord nodded and looked again the closely clustered group around the ashes of the fire and suppressed a sigh, this was going to be difficult if he judged them rightly but it had to be done if they were to travel in good time and in safety. He turned his eyes back towards Elrond but when he spoke his words were clearly meant for all of the visiting party.  
"Stay close together my Lord, and do not stray from the line we set, particularly where we leave the road, which we must do for the depredations of a bad winter are not yet all restored. My guard will flank you and guide you. Stop immediately if so requested by either word or gesture. Stay alert, push back your cloaks and be prepared to defend yourself with little warning. The shadow retreats but the forest remains dangerous in some parts.  
With that he turned back towards his horse and prepared to mount as those of his party still mounted turned back towards the shadow of the trees  
Elrond heard a hiss of discontent behind him and a voice on the edge of open anger made itself heard  
"I would know your name wood elf for I will have words with your king about you and your treatment of us. Do you think us children to be lectured by you as if we have never known danger before? Do you think us unable to defend ourselves, to do battle if it is needed?"

Elrond felt a surge of anger and made a silent oath to have words with the one who had ignored his warnings and instructions so readily and with such little provocation; for the elf lord's words had been fair, simply a reminder to those just arrived and nothing more than he had expected. He saw the one challenged halt with his hand on his horse's mane and turn, and he watched a look of weary resignation flit across the elf lords face before his dark eyes moved to meet Elrond's briefly and then drifted past him to the others of the party  
"I know nor think anything of your past my lord, battle or otherwise, how would I when we have never met before this day," he said evenly  
Elrond gave a faint sigh for though there was no obvious barb in the words they perhaps hinted at the feeling among the people of the Woodland Realm. But he had no time to think more on it for the elf lord was continuing to speak.

"But though I know nothing of you I know much of this forest and its dangers, and they are far different to those you will have encountered in your secluded valley or in the mountains that surround it, or even on the road here. I seek nothing more than to mark that fact in your minds for my King has charged me with your welfare until we reach the palace.  
He smiled faintly  
"Do not let the brightness of the day and the new green leaves of spring deceive you into thinking darkness defeated my lords. Greenwood remains a perilous place once outside the King's influence, even now all manner of dangers lurk in the shadows, and some of the trees that once withered beneath the shadow can be sullen and hostile, even to those who know the forest well and love it. It is true that the shadow of evil fails for the moment, even in the darkest places, and we have removed the creatures of the evil one where we can find them, but our route will take us from the road and through places where the kings sway is less certain, places where they may yet lurk. We are a small party when all is said I wish only to put you on your guard and remind you that the world of the Greenwood is less certain than the one you rode from.  
Elrond inclined his head and spoke before any of his party could say more  
"A fair warning it is, and I for one thank your for your foresight and care. We have heard many tales of the evil that has lain upon the Greenwood but it can be hard to judge what is tale and what truth at a distance."

A hard look passed across the face of the elf lord  
"The more grim the tale the more likely it is to be true my Lord. It has been a millennia or more that we have had to live with sword and bow as constant companion, a millennia since we could welcome anyone from beyond Greenwood without the fear that they might be a tool of the necromancer or some other enemy trying to test us. Much of the worst of what the world has heard has some truth. It is safer now than it has been since the fortress in south was built, but as I say all the danger is not yet past. Nor will it be until the source of the evil is gone from the world." His look softened and he smiled slightly. "My king would not see any of you lost upon the road or spending your visit in the hands of the healers."  
"Nor I," Elrond replied with a faint smile, "you may be assured that we will observe all warnings in this matter.  
The elf lord nodded and turned once again towards his horse.

Elrond also turned and strode towards the rock where his own horses was tethered, sending a dark look of warning to his companions as he did so. They followed his lead and mounted in silence exchanging looks with each other and sending glares towards the one who had spoken unasked and too freely. They fell in line behind their lord as, with Estel at his side, he moved towards the waiting Woodland Guards.

xxx

They had ridden for nearly three days now and the last had been spent off the elven road, driven into the depths of the forest paths by deep and sticky mud pools, flood tumbled stone and wind felled tree These track and paths were much smaller than the road and had no surface other than grass and fallen leaves, in many places they could go no more than two horses abreast and even then the trees on either side caught at their cloaks and hair. The wood elves had kept their distance from their guests, polite and helpful enough when spoken to but offering neither question nor comment of their own. Only the elf lord who led them engaged in conversation readily and even then he spoke only with Elrond unless one of the others ventured a question. Many of the visitors were starting to find their guides unnerving for there was something about them, something more than their silence, which seemed to set them apart from all the elves that had visited the last homely house over the centuries. Not least was the habit of those on foot suddenly disappearing into the trees only to return quickly and report to their leader in a language that none of Elrond's party could understand.

Elrond had some sense of it though for when asked he frowned.

"From what little I can understand they are relaying the words of the trees, yet their reports seem to be detailed and in some manner pertinent to our journey, for I think that we have changed our route at least once in response to such a report."

His companions had said nothing more but looked at each other in unease, recalling the stories of the wood elves magic and the fate of those who got lost within their forest. They all swore a silent vow to themselves to do or say nothing that might cause them to be abandoned.

Each days travel had ended at a camp that was ready for them, well stocked with firewood and food. Elrond could not help but wonder if these camps were for their benefit only or if they served other purposes. They saw no one at these halts other than their guides but he had the feeling that there were many other elves not far away and he wondered what business they might be about so far from the Elven kings halls, for these were no villages or settlements. In fact they had passed no settlements at all and it had occurred to the lord of Imladris that they were being deliberately kept away from the people of the forest, if that were so then he could guess as to why and it grieved him.

As they progressed further into the Greenwood, the trees grew taller and the shadows deeper and their sense of being surrounded grew stronger, and the party needed no more reminders to stay close to each other and alert. The forays away from the road shortened their journey no doubt but they also deprived them of all sense of direction and for much of the time not even the sky was visible to judge the passage of the day. Once they halted unexpectedly, a shout from a scout in the trees and the elf lord raised his hand to indicate they should stop. They waited for a while wondering what awaited them, then the scout dropped down to the ground to report, speaking swiftly in that unfamiliar language, their guide nodded once and replied no less swiftly and the scout turned and disappeared up the nearest tree again.

Elrond rode forward  
"What has occurred?  
"A wild wolf lair, empty many seasons now, but there are new tracks and it seems that that something has returned to it." Their guide replied softly. "Keep your party here and quiet my Lord, we will investigate."  
"May we not come and assist?  
"I think it better that you do not, for you do not know the forest and the king would not wish your safety risked.  
Elrond sighed  
"I understand, but I would come if you would allow it, to see the signs of the dark lord, if that is what it is, so that I might report back to the Council. You know that I have faced warg and wild wolf and orc before, for we were of the same army, and I give my word that I will do nothing unless you instruct it. I will leave the others here as you request for there are none amongst them that stood at the last alliance.  
There was a long silence as the elf lord scanned his face then he inclined his head the once but said nothing more.

Elrond returned to his own part  
"Remain here. I ride forward with them to see that which causes concern. But I alone do so, that I have agreed.  
With that he turned his horse and followed the wood elves into the trees.

xxx

Time passed slowly for the Estel as they waited for Elrond and the wood elves to return. Their remaining escort had led them a short way through the trees to a small glade created by the fall of a giant oak. Here a ring of logs surrounded a patch of grass not yet claimed by undergrowth and where the sunlight was bright and carried the first hint of the warmth of summer. While they waited the Imladris party and their remaining guard dismounted and took the opportunity to allow the horses' time to graze upon the lush grass. The Imladris elves stood around in groups of two or three and held low voiced conversations whilst the wood elves stretched out on branches at the glade perimeter apparently content to do nothing more than bask in the beauty of the place.

Estel wandered over to one of the outer logs and sat looking up at the trees towering above them, he shivered as he did so, despite the mildness of the air, for there was something about them that gave him the feeling that he was being watched. More than that they made him feel small and insignificant, there was an air about them that spoke of knowing, of secrets, of their centuries of watching. For these were old trees, tall and broad, their branches spreading out with a reach on each side longer than five men. He was suddenly struck him how much these trees might have seen and heard in the centuries of their growing and he wondered what they thought of the children of men; if they ever did. The life of men was surely to brief for these trees to even notice it.

For some reason he could not have explained he was sure that this forest had a mind, was aware, though its knowing was no doubt strange.

For the first time he wondered what the inhabitants of Thranduils Realm would be like, if they would be familiar in their ways and bearing, if they would be silent, patient and watchful like their guard, or if they would be wild and dangerous as the stories said. He closed his eyes as the wind sang amongst the branches setting its own descant against the song of the birds, remembering Elronds smile when he had asked that question as they sat beside the fire the night they arrived at the forest gate.

"Wild? I never found them so. Oropher was their king when we fought together, he was Thranduil's father; now he could be difficult and unpredictable at times but he was no fool and his people were both brave and well disciplined. So I would not say I have found them to be wild in the sense I think you mean.  
"But they are less wise so the stories say, and dangerous.  
Elrond shook his head  
"Less wise, that is a trick of old words. The wise of that saying did not mean wisdom as I think you mean it, nor foresight or power of thought, only that they were less learned and skilled in those things the high elves returning from the blessed Realm valued. It is true their skill in working metal and gems was less than the returning Noldor lords, nor was their building, their art or music, as fine to the eyes and ears of those who had lived and studied under the tutelage of the Valar. But they may have said the same of those returning to the wide world. Their attachment to their forests and lands was seen as childlike by those same Noldor lords it is true, rude and rustic were the words they often used to describe those who had not crossed the mountains I believe. Some even said it of the Telari who waited for Thingol and so did not cross the sea. But in the things that mattered to them the Sylvan people were, and are, very skilled. As for wise, they have lived and fought the darkness for two ages and have not fallen to it or been seduced by it. I think that would take a considerable degree of wisdom, don't you? As for being dangerous well they have faced many dangers and trials, not only Sauron, and have survived, all that can do that have to be dangerous to some degree."

Estel thought about that for a moment not sure what to reply, in the end he settled for a quick nod and moving on to his greater interest  
"The king is not one of the wood elves you say.  
Elrond smiled and shook his head  
"No he is of the Sindar, one of those who crossed the mountains but not the sea. Those who waited and searched for Thingol and who later lived within Melian's girdle. When the Sindar princes came back across the mountains after Doriath was destroyed they settled in Greenwood and other forests of the east. At this time the wood elves were not a settled or ordered people but scattered and nomadic with no home as you would think of it. In the new comers they saw elves that had the skills of the elves of the west but also loves and values that they understood and so they gathered to them. When they saw how these Sindar loved the land despite their greater knowledge they took them as their kings and lords and I do not think that they have regretted it."  
"So Oropher became their king by their choice?"

"Yes, and his son took his father crown by their choice also. I know that when he brought the woodland army back after the fall of Sauron he was not at all sure that they would wish it. But they did crown him, and he had kept them united and content with his rule since that time. More than that I believe he keeps them happy, far more than might be expected given the danger that threatens them, and gives them hope and peace as much as the times allow.  
Elrond had been staring into the fire until then but now he turned and looked at him holding his eyes with the power of his look  
"Be in no doubt that he is a great king Estel, greater than his father and greater than any of the other Sindar lords who became kings. In some ways he is a greater king than many of those who returned from the Undying lands.  
"Greater even than Celeborn my Lord?" Estel could not hide his surprise  
Elrond had turned away then and a strange look passed across his face, staring down at his hands he spoke softly  
"Celeborn is great and wise lord, one of the wisest still in the world, and he is a careful leader of his people, but the situations of the two Realms are not the same, any more than Thranduil's situation compares to mine. There are other factors of which you know nothing and that must remain the case for it is not given to me to speak of it. His lordship and Thranduil's kingship cannot be weighed against each other by virtue of those things. Thranduil is a great king that is all you need to remember."

Estel had wondered briefly what those other forces were but it had been clear that Elrond did not intend to say more on the matter. But as he sat and stared up at the sky as they waited he wondered again what they were and how they reflected upon Thranduil's greatness as a king.


	41. Chapter 41

_A/N Complements of the season to all. I hope those of you on holidays are having a wonderful time, and those who are working are not too frazzled, May you all have a wonderful new year._

 **Arrival**

They had trekked down several narrow pathways in single file and with the scouts keeping to the trees and soon they were deep in shadowed avenues of towering beech and oak. Trees which seemed untouched by the darkness for their leaves were green and full and glowing with life. To the left of them a river babbled, the sound a cheerful bell peal on the still woodland air, and all around them birds chirped and squabbled. Elrond found it hard to believe that evil lurked here, for the trees looked at ease and the sounds of the wood seemed undiminished.

"Would you not expect it to be silent if the shadow had returned?" He asked quietly when they came to a wider way and he was once again riding beside the elf lord.

That earned him an approving smile  
"I would, which is why I am content that we leave your party more lightly guarded whilst we explore and that you ride with us. There is no other sign of concern but the tracks and there might be many reasons for them. The trees speak of something wolf like but they cannot tell us any more for their minds do not work in that manner  
Elrond nodded; though he lacked the sylvan connection to the trees he could feel the awareness of the forest around him  
"Perhaps a forest wolf?" He ventured  
The other elf nodded  
"That is my hope, for the forest wolves departed when the wild wolf came nearer and it would be a source of joy if even one of them has returned. In the days before the shadow fell upon us this land was forest wolf territory, and a large pack lived within these glades and beneath the hillocks beside the river, they hunted in forest fringes and out on the open land. My hope is that one or more has found their way back to their ages ago home.  
He gave Elrond a warning look  
"But have a care for we must pass one of the spider nests to reach our goal, empty some twenty five seasons but still tendrils of their webs remain and can catch at hair and cloak. They are hard to remove and they irritate the skin if touched, though the venom that once coated them has been washed away."

Elrond nodded, drew his cloak closer about him and followed in silence staring around him in curiosity trying to imagine the size and malice of the creatures that had invaded this peaceful scene. It was hard to do for shafts of the morning sun danced between the rustling branches, patterning the leaves with a golden glow, and flowers peaked from beneath every bush and fallen log.

Yet despite this calm and beauty he could see the pain they had inflicted as they drew close to the old nest, for the leaves were smaller and wore a dusty and tattered appearance whilst the grass was dark and tangled as if the blades were twisting in some silent turmoil  
"Once the trees here were black with venom," the elf lord said quietly as he caught the others look, "and the grass was blood red, twisted and brittle and sharp as glass.  
Elrond nodded his expression somber  
"It is well that it recovers so quickly.  
The elf lord smiled"The king spent much energy on speeding its release from hurt, for this part of our Realm was badly afflicted and it pained all to see it. It grieved him that he could not have spared it the years of suffering, and if truth be told he gave more of himself than perhaps he should have done, for it drained him at a time when he needed both strength and rest."

Elrond felt the other elf suddenly draw away from him as if he had said something, betrayed something that he had not intended to, which was probably the case. He recalled the sad demeanor of the prince during his visit and the tales of the rift between the son and father and gave an inward sigh, and then he ignored those last words as if he had not heard them. With another look around him he changed the course of the conversation.

"Was it here that Thorin Oakenshield was taken? Forgive me if I seem to pry in matters that do not concern me but he and his companions stayed a while in my home and I cannot help but be a little curious about their journey after than. Mithrandir has told me some part of it but there is much he did not know. Not least how they came to leave the road when he had told them many times that they must not do so.  
His companion shook his head  
"No it was not here, but closer to the palace. Had it been here they would have perished without ever their presence being known.  
He looked around him with a reminiscent smile  
"It was the last feast of the autumn moons when they came amongst us disturbing our merrymaking and frightening the young ones. A rare clatter they made too, no wonder they were pursued by spiders, though the spiders closer to the palace were fewer and smaller and more careful in their dealings with us, knowing their fate should they provoke us to attack. But the dwarfs were foolish creatures and emboldened them to follow where usually they would not go and to venture closer to our parties, so bringing danger to us where there should have been none.  
Elrond nodded.  
"They made a noise in my house as I recall."

The elf lord laughed  
"Then perhaps their lack of sense does not surprise you." His smile faded. "The king halted the feast and sent out patrols to discover what it was that brought the spiders closer, for at that time we knew nothing of the dwarfs. The patrols discovered them quickly enough and took them, Oakenshield first and then the others; though at the time of taking them we did not know if they were the masters of the spiders come for some nefarious purpose or simply their prey.  
Elrond smiled in sympathy  
"Ah, disturbed your gatherings did they? I wondered how you came upon them in such a throng of trees. No surprise then that the king viewed them with distrust. But why did they venture so far from the road for I doubt they found a warm welcome?"

The other smiled slyly  
"No welcome at all, for the king was angered by their intrusion and lack of care and much concerned as to their intent. Nor did their conduct help the matter, indeed it seemed that they wished to increase our suspicion of them rather than allay it. As for leaving the road, we never knew why for they never gave a fair answer to the question.  
He sighed  
"Oakenshield, as I believe it was, was surly and belligerent and refused to give any account of his doings at all, foolish beyond measure though it was for he had seen the threats that dwelt with in our lands.  
Elrond frowne  
"No account of himself at all? Taken in such manner he must have known how his actions might be seen.  
"Indeed, for what else could any one of sense expect when caught in a place they had no just cause to be? Does a burglar expect to be offered a seat by the fire and a hot meal when caught?" He laughed. "But then he was a bombastic creature, full of his own importance; thinking of nothing but his treasure I expect and determined not to risk betraying it. Foolish as I say, for how could he think we would not know of the mountain and Smaug's hoard? But the king is patient and fair, some would say he treated Oakenshield too kindly for once he had him secure he was content to do nothing more than wait for the dwarf to come to a better sense of the situation. So he had him locked up to let him think the matter through, but it changed nothing still he refused to give account of himself.  
Elrond smiled in memory.  
"No he didn't seem the most reasonable or wise of his race. But I would not have said he was that much of a foo not when he had been warned by the wizard too.

The elf lord grimaced  
"Perhaps we should have treated him more harshly, given him bread and water only, or left him bound, but the king ordered that they were to be fed and cared for." He shook his head sadly, "yet I doubt it would have altered anything. When his companions were taken they were no better in their sense or manners, rude and arrogant they were for all the trouble they had caused us. So the king set them to cool their heels too.  
He frowned  
"They claimed that they were starving and lost, but what travelers would venture into Greenwood without sufficient rations and other necessities? Though later we wondered if that were more truth than first we thought for they had little enough with them. We expected that they had weapons and food concealed and the king sent out for the areas around their capture to be searched, hoping that we might get some clue as to their purpose in coming here, but we found nothing. Yet they must have had help of some kind to hand for they escaped and made their way to the mountain, with dire consequences for many, not least Oakenshield himself."

Elrond nodded somber faced  
"Aye so I have heard, he perished in the fight.  
The elf lord nodded  
"He died of his wounds, alongside his younger kin. He fought bravely it is true having thrown off the gold sickness, or so it seemed. Dain now rules under the mountain.  
"Is he a good lord?  
"That remains to be seen, but he is not struck by the gold sickness to any degree that I can see. He has been fair with the men of Dale and the Lake and dealt the treasure well and wisely, returning that which was not dwarf wealth to those it was stolen from, which Oakenshield had refused to do.  
"There will be peace between you then?  
"So it is hoped, but where dwarfs are concerned who can say, the story of the past tells that they cannot be trusted where gold or gems are concerned. Nor can they be relied upon to tell the truth, even to their own, or to keep faith with any other peoples. None have cause to know it better than my kin. Our king is wise and will wait to judge how much Dain can be trusted, but he will give him no cause or justification for complaint while he decides."

By this time they had arrived at the edge of a wide glade where a small rocky outcrop hid a chamber below the tree roots. An elf was backing away from the entrance, his hand raised to prevent others approaching. He turned his head and spoke softly to the guard nearest to him, who turned away and approached with a smile  
"Four young cubs my lords and mother not far away I'd surmise. Best be gone when she returns for I'd not cause her to feel the need to defend her young ones.  
"Forest wolf then?  
"Aye my lord and a fine tangle of little legs and tails. We have not woken them but best we go quickly for they d  
not know us now, so long have they been gone, and they will give voice if they wake and catch our horses scent.  
The elf lord nodded and the party turned and headed back towards the ones they had left

"Life returning then, that is good to hear." Elrond said softly.  
"Yes.£  
That was the only response but there was something in the accompanying look that left the lord of Imladris feeling chastened and they finished the ride back to his party in silence.

xxx

The reassembled party had ridden for an hour or a little more when Elrond first realised that the nature of the forest had changed. Now they rode through glades where grass was lush and the leaves on trees glowed with life and light. Flowers in delicate spring colours still bloomed in great profusion and some of the trees were also sporting flower alongside their leaf. Bird song filled the air and the scent of burgeoning life was all around them. At this moment he could understand the passion for their forest that had kept Thranduil's people fighting for most of this age.

Elrond turned to their guide with a look of wonder on his face.  
"It does not seem as if anything has ever been amiss." He breathed as if afraid to break the spell of the great trees.\\\  
The elf lord smiled.  
"Here there has not been, for we are now within the influence of the king and within that the shadow never prevailed. No spider ever dwelt here, nor warg. No orc has ever entered these glades. Those who ventured near were soon dispatched."  
Elrond, well aware that they had more than a days' ride remaining to the Kings Halls, felt his eyes widen in surprise as he stared at the other elf.

"The Kings power stretches here? I confess I had not expected his influence to reach so far, nor for it to be so complete."  
The elf lord's smile widened.  
"He is our king, the lord of the wood, and has been for many circuits of the sun, his links to the forest are strong and deep and his power is great."  
A shadow crossed his face.  
"In the darkest of days he spent much of his energy in protecting our home by the quickness of his mind, the power of his sword arm and the strength of his light. It is one reason why Oakenshield's intrusion was so grave, for he and his companions placed a greater burden upon the king at a time when, as the seasons turned towards winter, the declining life force within the forest made it more vulnerable to the darkness."  
Elrond sighed softly.  
"Yet Oakenshield would not have realised that."

The elf lord inclined his head in acknowledgement.  
"Perhaps not, but from all that I know of that event I do not think it would have changed matters if he had. The lust for gold must have already had a firm grip upon his throat; why else would he think to risk the dragon's wrath?"  
Elrond shook his head.  
"I cannot say, though we spoke of Smaug a little and Mithrandir seemed to bless his venture. He had a map with runes that he wished me to resolve for him, I thought no more of it than that. I don't pretend that I approved of his intentions, much though I dislike dragons, but I did not think that he would do anything as truly foolish as he did. But then I did not know that the wizard would need to abandon them to carry out their plans alone. Had I suspected that would be the case I would have warned your king, but I did not."

The elf lord said no more but was taken by a sudden stillness before he raised his hand signalling them to halt. As they did so Elrond caught the sound of others approaching through the trees, he looked towards his guides but none seemed perturbed and so he settled himself to wait and see what was ahead.

Within a moment or two another party emerged from within the shadow of the trees. This group numbered no more than six but was led by one whose face was familiar, the king might still be otherwise occupied by the prince had found an opportunity to greet them. As they approached Elrond looked closely at the king's son noting with considerable interest and relief that the cloud of darkness that had hung around him during his brief visit to Imladris was considerably reduced, though not fully dispelled. At the time of his visit Elrond had taken that cloud, and the dimming of his light, to be nothing more than grief for the losses of his kin at the battle, only later had he come to think it might have another cause. Now he was sure of it, though grief there had no doubt been there was something more, something that was still unresolved and at war within the prince. Yet the blue eyes that met his as he greeted them were unclouded and welcoming enough, the hint of reserve that Elrond felt could be explained my many things and yet in his own mind he was sure it was related to the battle and his visit of that time.

The prince came forward of his escort and inclined his head in welcome.  
"My Lord Elrond, welcome to my father's Realm, welcome to Greenwood."  
The words were formal enough but prince's voice was warm and light.  
"I trust your journey had been without mishap. My father would have come out to meet you here but the events that prevented him from greeting you at the forest gate still are not resolved and his presence is required at the Palace. I regret that I too will be unable to ride with you but neither my father nor I would have you go further without one of us greeting you."

Elrond returned the greeting with a bow and replied as formally.  
"Prince Legolas, it is kind of you both to show such concern but I well understand the weight of duty and would not have you drawn from it for any need of ours. Your people have been most careful of our safety and comfort, the welcome has been more than generous."  
Legolas smiled and moved closer, his guard waiting where they were.  
"I am glad that you have found all you needed and that no danger has assailed you."  
He waved a hand at the forest behind them and spoke softly.  
"Most of the creatures of the fortress in the south have been killed or driven away but there are some whose tenacity is great and who try to return when they think we are otherwise occupied. Orc are little trouble since the battle it is true, my father's information is that the few who survived the hunt have withdrawn to Gundebad to lick their wounds, and a careful watch is now kept upon those mountain passes." He met Elrond's eyes in long straight look. "We will not be caught unawares again."

Again Elrond felt the faint hint of reproof and hid a sigh. He nodded meeting Legolas's look with a faint depreciating smile.

"I would hope that none of us will be." He replied equally softly.  
Legolas held his gaze for a moment then his smile widened slightly.  
"Indeed, I would join you in that hope."  
Elrond felt a momentary surprise, for it had seemed for just a second that he was facing Thranduil again on the slopes of Mordor. Then the impression was gone and Legolas's look and tone was his own again."But come, we have a small camp close by with tea brewing and bread if you would have some."  
"Tea sounds tempting indeed," Elrond responded. "We would be most glad to join you for a while if it meets with our guide's approval.  
"The prince laughed at that.  
"We have fresh baked sweet bread and the first spring teas sent by my father for your refreshment and enough of them for all, so I doubt that they will disapprove of the halt."

A new voice came from behind Elrond and the surprise of the tone suggested some disbelief on the speaker's part.  
"Enough for all! Your father treats his warriors well then?"The prince did not miss the implication it seemed for there was there a frown between his brows as he looked towards the owner of the voice.  
"Of course, why would you think otherwise? My father may be king but he is also a warrior of centuries standing, he has stood in battle beside many you will meet here and knows well the difficulties and dangers they face in defending our Realm and kin. If there is aught that he can do or give to make their lot easier or less harsh he will do it with a grateful heart."

"My Lord, no criticism of your noble father was intended." Elrond broke in quickly suppressing another spurt of irritation at his companions, glad that it was not Estel that had spoken in such a manner. "Though I confess I marvel at how he contrives to supply such delaines so far from his stronghold. I look forward to discussing the management of supply lines with him for no doubt he has learned much in recent centuries that we could benefit from, if he is happy to share the lessons." He smiled ruefully. "Indeed Lord Glorfindel will berate me for many years to come if I do not make the most heartfelt pleas for such learning. He, like your father, understands the need to provide for those who defend our lands and of the hardships and difficulties they face in doing so.  
The frown faded from the prices face but a hint of reserve entered his voice and his responding smile was faint.  
"My father and Lord Glorfindel would find much common ground I am sure. I do not doubt that my king would be happy to such share lessons we have learned in our years of fighting the enemy on our doorstep that might be of assistance to him."

For a moment it was Thranduil who was before him again, the Thranduil he had last seen at the Council meeting when they had discounted his claims that the Necromancer was Sauron returned. Elrond found himself wondering what the Thranduil who had fought the shadow of evil for more than half an age since that meeting would be like when they met. He inclined his head with a smile.  
"For which I can offer his thanks in anticipation."  
Legolas looked at him for a long moment then his smile widened a little and he inclined his head in return.  
"Then let us test how well our supply lines have fared this time."

He looked towards the elf lord who sat in silence beside Elrond with a far warmer smile.  
"Come, we will lead the way. Not far and you will smell the bread for yourselves."  
With that he turned and returned to his guard. The elf lord indicated for Elrond to precede him and the two parties moved towards the pleasure of tea and honey bread as quickly as the trees allowed.

xxx

Estel rode in silence, ignored by his companions from Imladris and too uncertain to begin any conversation with their guides. Elrond was riding beside the prince as became the leader of their party and truth be told Estel was glad of it for the disapproval of his guardian for the most recent breech of his instructions had been painfully obvious. How many times he had warned them to be on their guard? Too many to excuse any for forgetting, and he was glad that he had not been the one at fault. His mind slipped back to the gathering called by Elrond several days before they left wondering at the recent incautious remark for he had been blunt enough in terms if his expectations of those who traveled with him.

"You may have heard stories of Thranduil that do him no credit, that paint him as harsh and proud and quick to anger. You may think this to be true for none of you here have ever known him. But I have known him, in both war and peace. I stood with him before the gates of Mordor at the end of the last age when he was first Prince then King. I stood in his Halls when they placed the crown upon his head and walked in his forest at the time of the Watchful Peace. Having known him I tell you to put those stories from your mind, for that is all they are, childish stories, told by the foolish to impress an audience who know no better and whom they also take for fools. Told too by those less able than he, those with a grievance, those he has thwarted or bested, and there are many of those for Thranduil is as strong and quick of mind as he is of body, and he is a warrior of some renown amongst those who truly know of such things."

He had looked around him, the firelight glinting red upon his hair and deepening the shadows of his face, the sorrow of memory haunted his eyes and his words had been as grim as his appearance at that moment.  
"He knows the Enemy well and has fought him across two ages of the world; for much of this age he has waged that war almost alone, much to my regret. Had we minded him better when he told us of the danger within his forest Sauron would have been taken whilst he was still weak, he would not have escaped to the east and our situation now would be less precarious. But we did not listen and some of the things that were said of him and his people at that time have the power to drawn shame from me even now. I would have nothing more added to our roll of offence against him. If you ride with me then you must put all ill that you have heard about him from your minds. You need only to remember is that he is a king chosen by his people to whom he is unswervingly loyal."

He had looked each of them in the face and his normally kindly voice was hard as winter frost as he continued.  
"Thranduil is a great king whose leadership has kept his Realm whole and happy despite the battles that they have faced. I would have you remember that at all times, remember too that any insult to him is an insult to his people and any slight to them is a slight against him. If you cannot set aside whatever slurs you may have heard then tell me now and I will excuse you this duty. If you still chose to travel with me then guard your tongue. Keep silent if that is proving hard for I would not have him given any further injury or cause for complaint against us. I have chosen you because he does not know you and because I trust you to be mindful of my words. If you fear that my trust may be mistaken then tell me now and there will be no offence."

None had stepped aside of course though it was now clear that at least one of their number should have done so. No wonder Elrond was angry, for it did them no honour and there could be no saying how it might influence the King in the matter of what ever boon it was that his guardian sought. Estel wished that he knew more of that for it was his abiding fear that he might be the one who roused the Kings anger.

A fear that was not eased by this meeting with the Prince.

He had met Legolas just once before this, during his visit to Imadris some five or so years ago. Then he had seemed approachable enough if a little more reserved than most who visited them. Nor had the power of the last homely house eased whatever burden he laboured under, a fact that marked his visit out as unusual in Estel's mind. That he had carried a burden was betrayed by the way that Elrond had watched him and the look of sorrow and despair that settled upon the prince's face when he thought himself unobserved. He recalled that he had come upon him once beside the great waterfall so lost to his thoughts and this unspoken pain that he had not heard the approach and Estel had been sure that much of the dampness on his face was from tears not the spray.

Yet there had been times when he was companionable enough, evenings in the Hall of Fire when they had talked of music and dance, of art and poetry and of Estel's growing proficiency in weapons. On several occasions Legolas had joined him in practice and the prince's skill with the bow had left him speechless and with a burning desire to improve. He had tried to express his admiration but his stumbling words had brought the sadness back to the prince's eyes as he had waived the praise away saying that his skill was naught beside his father's and his lords. Estel had pondered long on why the sadness had returned then but never found an answer, and his tentative question to his foster father on the matter had brought a kind but firm rebuff. But in all his moods in those days at Imladris that prince had not been this prince. This one had an air of authority about him that had not been there in that other one, a calm certainty of bearing that verged on power. A dignity too that in some way reminded him of Elrond, and it suddenly came to him to wonder how many circles of the sun the Prince of the Greenwood had seen. Far, far more than his own eighteen, perhaps more than those of their own party. What, then, must he have made of a mortal who had lived so little and all of it in the shelter of Elrond's power?

As he watched the straight back before him, the graceful turn of his head as Legolas looked towards Elrond, Estel found himself wondering, 'if this is the Prince what, then, is the king?'

xxx

It was the middle of the next day that they finally approached the Palace. The ground had started to rise not long after they began the mornings ride, and it continued to rise gradually but inexorably as they wended their way through the trees. The sound of a river and of falling water grew louder as they progressed, and the trees thinned a little allowing more sunlight to filter through the bright green leaves of the beech and oak that towered above them.

The prince had left them at dawn to attend to other business in the forest realm and they continued under the protection of their escort and the dark haired elf lord who still had offered them no name. All of them had wondered at that and what, if anything, it might mean for their reception amongst the Sindar populations of the forest; for all of them knew the difficult history between the Noldar and Sindar and the strained relationships that persisted even to the current day. Estel frowned as he thought of it. Some of the Sindar, so Elrond said, considered all Noldar complicit in the kin slayings and many who did not had little desire to live in any proximity to them, considering them subject to the same arrogance and weakness that had driven Feanor's brood. He looked towards Elrond chatting quietly with their escort and wondered what he thought on the matter given that he had been raised by two of them, and what part that played in his dealings with Thranduil.

The road became wider as they grew closer to the kings Halls and the sound of rushing water drowned out the birdsong. Finally they turned a bend and there stretching before them was an avenue of trees, beeches as tall as any Estel had ever seen. At the end of it, a quarter of a mile or so before was them, was a clearing in which the sun danced. At the far side of it a river wound its way around the foot of a great hill clothed in trees, the sun flashing all the colours of the rainbow above the water that tumbled down its slopes. A bridge spanned the river giving access to the foot of the hill where wide stone doors could just be seen guarded on both side by armoured figures. The elf lord raised his had for them to pause and behind them Estel heard the sound of a horn...

He saw the guards before the doors change their stance and on the slope immediately above them archers appeared. The horn sounded again and this time another answered it from the hill, and their guides began to move forward. As they entered the avenue he heard the horn sound from behind him again and as the responding call sounded the guards across the bridge stepped back and the doors swung open.

On reaching the clearing his own party halted as a group of elven guards appeared from within the stronghold and marched forward to line the bridge. Estel drew a deep breath for these guards moved like none he had seen before, graceful as deer and in perfect step, moving as if they were part of each other. When they had taken up their positions the horn on the hill sounded once more, a different note this time, and from within the shadows behind the door another group of elves emerged, first four more guards then four elf lords, richly cloaked. For a moment they stared towards the party approaching before the horn sounded another note, different once again, and the group parted to allow another figure through, a figure followed by two more elf lords and four further guards who ranged themselves at his back. The horn behind him sounded again and the call was returned at which point the central elf moved forward and halted at the edge of the bridge, the elf lords ranging themselves at his back and sides. The sun glinted on his golden hair and sparkled in the white and green gems that edged his pale green tunic. With a sudden tremor in his stomach Estel realised that he was looking at King Thranduil.

Slowly their party moved forward, their guides falling back to allow Elrond to advance to the front of them, and at a gesture from his guardian Estel moved to ride behind him. At the edge of the bridge they halted and Elrond bowed his head in acknowledgement of the waiting figure. Thranduil, for Estel would not have doubted his identity even without the crown of flowers upon his head, acknowledged the bow.

"Welcome Elrond Lord of Imladris. We are pleased to see you within our Realm again. I trust that your journey has been uneventful and that your time within in my Halls will be both peaceful and merry."  
The voice was deep and musical and carried without any apparent effort on the part of the speaker.  
"Thank you, O King of Greenwood." Elrond replied formally. "Uneventful enough and I thank you for your care on our passage through your lands, for I doubt we would have made so speedy a journey unaided. Might I make my companions known to you?"  
Thranduil inclined his head and Elrond turned and indicated each elf of his party as he named them, and though his voice was calm and easy they all felt his eyes upon them as he presented them to the watching king. But nothing was said or done other than he had ordered and each of them bowed in silence to the king who answered their salute with a small inclination of his head.

As the introductions were conducted Estel sat with his eyes respectfully lowered, but not so much so that he couldn't observe the figure before the palace gates from under his lashes. What he saw caused his heart to race and sweat to form on the palms of his hands, for while he did not know what he had expected of this king he was sure it was not the lord who stood before them. Estel had thought the prince of Greenwood to be one of the fairest elves he had seen and yet the son's beauty was outstripped by that of the father, and it was with considerable shock that Estel realised that the King of Greenwood reminded him greatly of Lord Glorfindel. Like him Thranduil was tall, even for a Sindar lord, probably more than half a head taller than Elrond, he was also wider in the shoulder than most elves Estel knew and his neck was long and strong. Nor could the rings upon the slender fingers that curled around the carved wooden staff in his right hand disguise the tell tale signs of a powerful grip. 'A swordsman then as well as an archer like his son,' some distant part of his mind noted. Yet despite the kings size and the many hints of physical power he displayed he had all the elegant grace of the Eldar. If his father had been from the same mould it was less strange that the scattered woodelves had sought him, a prince of the Sindar, for their king, nor surprising that this son had been given the father's crown upon Oropher's death at Dagolad.

Yet Thranduil was unlike other Sindar Estel had seen in that his hair was gold rather than silver, not the blazing August sun gold of Glorfindel but the paler tone of an earlier sun, spring rather than full summer. Fitting, then, that his head was circled by a crown decked with woodland flowers and the robe that trailed behind him was woven with a pattern of new leaves. But what set Estel's heard pounding more than any particular aspect of his look was his stance, for all the glorious robes and sparkling gems could not hide the sense of danger about him, an aura that was also reminiscent of Glorfindel and the few other elf lords of the previous age that he had met. Yet he was more regal than they, more reserved and distanced than they, the mark of a king as Elrond had told him and one that would have singled Thranduil out amongst any crowd of elf lords however noble. Even at this distance Estel could sense the power within him.

Elrond waived Estel to come to take his place beside him and he realised with a sinking heart that all of the accompanying Imladris elves had been introduced and his turn was upon him.  
"This is my ward Estel."  
Elrond said, turning towards the king, dark eyes meeting blue ones with a look of meaning that none of the others saw or would have understood if they had.

Estel rode forward and halted beside his guardian, his heart hammering so hard that he was sure that all the elves could hear it. He drew a deep breath and raised his eyes to greet their host as firmly as he could, though he knew himself to be terrified; in that moment Thranduil seemed to fill the world for there was a majesty about him that spoke of years of rule and responsibility. Now that he could see him better Estel saw that the Elven king had a fey look that sat strangely with the hints of physical power, though he could not be sure from where the impression sprang. The king's eyes were large and luminous it was true, and the same blue as his sons, the shade of a summer sky, yet there was nothing hazy or dreaming about them and meeting them Estel felt the force of an intelligent, powerful and enquiring mind. Whether it was from that mind or the light of him, stronger than the younger elves of Imladris, that the sense of authority originated, he could not tell but it was strong, so strong that Estel felt that a word from this king would freeze his blood and shrivel his heart if that was his intent. With some effort he gathered his wits and bowed, speaking the words that Elrond had given him to say at this time wanting only for the king's eyes to turn away from him.  
"My king, I thank you for allowing my visit to your Realm and for your welcome."

Thranduil looked at the youth closely seeing a slim figure dressed in the colours of Imladris. 'He looks as if a sudden wind would blow him away; and frightened too' he thought as the boy's words drifted on the breeze. 'Was Isildur ever this vulnerable, this untried? I don't recall him being so, have I forgotten or was I too young and untried then to see it? No matter though he is not Isildur and what Elrond's purpose in bringing him here is I will learn it soon enough.'

The king inclined his head in recognition of the greeting words, the gesture somehow emplacing that strange fey look, before turning his eyes towards Elrond again.  
"Come," he made a graceful gesture towards the waiting doors, "refreshments await you and your horses, and no doubt you will wish to cleanse the dust of the road from yourselves before you partake."

He turned in a flurry of robes and led the way towards his Halls.


End file.
